If a great wave shall fall
by badhairdays
Summary: Steve and Kono are friends. Murder charges and an IA investigation are not about to change that…right?
1. Chapter 1

**If a great wave shall fall**

Steve and Kono are friends. Murder charges and an IA investigation are not about to change that...right?

Disclaimer: I don't own anything; all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s).

A/N: Danny is always saying that Kono's been hanging out with Steve too long, and my mind somehow decided there had to be a multi chaptered fic about—you guessed it—Kono hanging out with Steve. This starts in season one and will also deal with some season 2 stuff, mainly Kono's (mishandled) storyline. Updates every couple of days, because I'm super busy studying.

A/N2: Thanks to Diana, who's been wonderful throughout the writing of this and Asra for all the helpful feedback. You guys are awesome and I couldn't have written this without you. Which means if it sucks, you're both to blame :P

**···················**

I.

This is what happens: Chin mentions something about Kono's apartment and it occurs to Steve he doesn't even know where she lives. He determines to rectify this immediately, looks up her address and next day finds himself driving by her neighborhood, a complete and total coincidence of course, and what do you know? That's her apartment building right there, he should really stop and say hello. That's the polite thing to do, right?

Right.

He parks his car, eyeing the yellowish façade of the building with distaste, climbs the stairs to 7B and knocks. He hears someone moving inside then the door opens, Kono smiling up at him uncertainly.

"Hey, boss! Howzit?"

"Hey, I was just in the neighborhood." He says pleasantly. "I'm meeting Danny for drinks in a bit, thought I'd see if you want to come along." The things he fails to mention are numerous and include but are not limited to the fact that he has planned this entire thing as meticulously as some of his tactical operations in Afghanistan.

"Yeah, okay." Kono shrugs, steps back inside her apartment. "I'll just be a sec." She informs him before she disappears in what must be her bedroom.

Steve takes this time to look around the place and while this is not the nightmare that is Danny's joke of an apartment (seeing as Kono has the ability to color coordinate her furniture and, you know,_ clean _it) it's still pretty bad.

Kono comes out, dressed in jeans and an interestingly thin top, starts looking around for something.

"Not to step out of line or anything" Steve starts hesitantly, "but I'm pretty sure you can find a better place on your salary. Maybe something closer to the beach?"

Kono laughs, not offended in the least. "Yeah, I hear you. I just want to pay off my car first, and then I'm getting out of here."

"Right. Makes sense." Steve nods, because that's very responsible, even though he's already thinking about the fastest way he can get her out of this place.

"Found it!" Kono exclaims, pocketing her cell phone. She looks at him, raises an eyebrow. "Do I need to bring my wallet?"

"I'm offended you think I'd let you pay for anything." Steve deadpans, but he means it. Come on, a girl who looks at that? Probably hasn't paid for a drink in her entire life.

"Did _you_ bring your wallet?" Kono challenges as they walk out and she turns to lock up. Steve thinks for a moment then realizes that no, he did not in fact remember to bring his wallet. Cut him some slack, okay? You don't need to carry a wallet on you at all times when you're chasing terrorists around the globe on the government's dime, all right? Jesus.

"I'll pay Danny back tomorrow." He amends, ushering her forward with a hand on her back. Kono just laughs at him, and it's sort of delightful.

**···················**

He almost pays off her car, decides at the last minute it would probably make things too weird. He gives her a small raise instead, makes sure he mentions it to the Governor somewhere between "five thousand dollars in repairs to that expensive sports car they borrowed for an undercover op" and "four hundred dollars for that door that was standing between him and a murder suspect".

The Governor just stares at him, like she usually does, not reacting in the slightest, almost like she can see through his head. Steve suspects she uses this time to meditate and pray for guidance, or patience or a pair of earplugs, possibly. But when he's over reciting the list for the week (they tried to have this meeting once a month at first, until Governor Jameson declared that to have been the most mind numbingly boring three hours of her life), she just nods seriously and signs whatever papers need signing, thanks him for his time and sends him off.

He has no fucking clue what Kono will say when she finds out, but he's prepared to argue it's a reasonable thing for him to do. She works insane hours, for one thing, and is consistently cheerful at the end of eighteen hour shifts when Steve himself has reached the point where flies buzzing by too loudly can send him into a homicidal rage. Not to mention, he has her go undercover every other week basically, in clothes that scarcely deserve the name. _And_, last but not least, Kono makes astonishingly good coffee. This, he has come to understand (mostly because Danny sees fit to remind him every morning after his first sip), is a marketable skill among law enforcement professionals.

So, you know. He has a strong case, if anyone thinks to ask.

Also, he would like to make it clear, for the record, that this has nothing to do with any desire to see her out of that apartment. At all.

Although he did find a couple of rentals near his place that are very reasonably priced. One of them has a garage, even. And a little yard. Not that he went by to see it or anything, just happened to be driving by earlier this morning.

So yeah.

**···················**

"So guess what happened today?" Kono says in greeting, making herself comfortable in one of the pointedly uncomfortable chairs he keeps for visitors (the message being: say your piece and get the fuck out).

"No idea." Steve replies honestly, because historically he sucks at this game.

"I went by the bank, and as it turns out, I am two hundred dollars wealthier this month." She raises an eyebrow and stares at him, and it's the same look he wears when he's staring down a suspect, waiting for a confession. Well, he'd hate to disappoint.

"I might have given you a raise." He admits levelly. Kono stares at him for second, hands crossed over her chest, and Steve takes this moment to appreciate how nice she looks in her blue top and okay he needs a break, and a beer and probably some therapy.

"A raise?" She repeats dubiously. Steve just widens his eyes innocently, nods.

"A well-deserved raise." He clarifies. Kono is silent for a while, seems to be contemplating this, eventually giving a small shrug.

"Thanks, boss." She says genuinely. He thought she'd be mad, yell a bit, tell him to mind his own fucking business and if she wants a raise you better believe she'll ask for it, but okay. He can work with this.

"No problem." He says simply, all easy going and courteous, see how cool and professional I am.

"I can probably get out of my apartment now." She adds with a small smile.

Yeah, that may have already occurred to him.

"Right, about that." Steve tries hesitantly. "I have a couple of places you could look into." Kono just looks at him uncertainly but she still hasn't started yelling and he's choosing to take this as a good sign.

"Here, I'll write down the address for you." He decides, scribbling on the back of an incident report he was working on because, you know, whatever, he can just start over. He hands over the list and she just looks at it for a bit, kind of bewildered.

"That's…very thoughtful of you." She says, smiling nervously, as if she isn't quite sure what to think about all this and he's being weird again.

"Don't mention it." He waves a hand dismissively, reaching for a new form and trying to look busy.

Kono gets up, clutching the list on one hand, looking at him still. "I'm just gonna…" She trails off, pointing at the door behind her. Steve just murmurs his agreement, almost misspells his name on the new report in his earnest attempt to appear distracted.

"Hey boss." Kono calls from the door, making him look up. "Thanks for this, really. I owe you one."

Steve shakes his head, smiles lightly. "Sure, okay." He agrees easily, even though he has no intention to collect, like, ever.

"I'm serious, one favor, anything you want. Go crazy, brah." Kono says, wiggling her eyebrows playfully.

"Get out of here or you'll be doing my paperwork for a month." He threatens, and Kono is gone before the end of the sentence.

**···················**

They're helping Kono move, even though Danny is mostly just complaining about his knee and making him and Chin do all the heavy lifting. Kono doesn't have that much stuff really, so it just takes a few hours.

She ended up renting a small house with a yard and a garage and a cheerfully painted light blue door ("That's turquoise", Danny remarks helpfully, earning him an incredulous look from Steve. "What? Grace's room is turquoise.") which, as it turns out, is exactly twelve minutes away from his house.

Not that he _timed it_ or anything. God, no. That would be creepy.

They finish carrying in the boxes then collapse on any available surface. Chin brings out a six pack and they order some pizza, no pineapple on top, if only to avoid another forty five minute rant on the evils of tropical fruit toppings on junk food.

"This is really an upgrade, cuz." Chin remarks approvingly, looking around at the freshly painted walls. "Now you just have to get rid of this couch." He nods at the worn blue couch that looks to Steve like it may have seen better days probably coinciding with the Reagan administration.

"Yeah, this place is nice." Danny agrees, waving his pizza slice around. "Maybe you can give me your realtor's name, see if they can find me anything remotely affordable on this tourist trap of an island."

"You're asking some stranger to help you find a place?" Steve interrupts before Kono can answer, taking offense. "I've been telling you, I would be _ecstatic_ to help you get out of that hellhole and now you—"

"Oh, and what would _you_ know about apartment hunting, Mr. I've lived in military housing for the entirety of my adult life?" Danny questions snarkily.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Steve demands hotly, because he really resents Danny's tone, Danny's expression, Danny's ignorant blanket statements and Danny's frequent dismissal of his hard earned real life knowledge.

"You know, it was Steve who pointed out this place to me." Kono offers in her best let's-all-be-friends-now voice and Danny shuts up for once, looking a bit taken aback. He looks at Kono, then Steve, narrows his eyes in full on detective mode.

"He did?" He asks, disbelief evident in his tone.

"Yeah, brah." Kono smiles amiably, as if this will be enough to stop the fight. Well. Kono smiling _is _actually a fairly cheerful sight, but he doesn't know if it has quite the same effect on Danny.

"And just how did you happen to stumble upon this real estate gem, oh Super SEAL?" His partner asks suspiciously, eyebrow raised.

"I was driving past one morning, what do you want from me?" Steve says, his tone a tad too defensive to sound completely sincere.

"You were…driving past one morning?" Danny repeats doubtfully, making it sound shady and implausible.

"Sure." He shrugs, reaching for another beer because, yeah. Danny's like a dog with a bone sometimes.

"Your house is nearby, right?" Chin asks from where he's stretched out on an armchair. He probably thinks he's helping.

"Oh, is that right?" Danny smirks. "Well isn't that a fortuitous occurrence? Maybe now you two can carpool, save the planet."

Chin and Kono appear to have given up on stopping this fight by now.

"Fortuitous occurrence, really?" Steve scoffs, rolling his eyes.

"Some people read you know."

"I'm not even going to dignify that with a response."

**···················**


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own anything; all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s).

**···················**

"This is inhumane." Danny declares loudly, frowning at the ground as if that will help him stay upright. "Unconstitutional. Probably counts as torture. If this were a war zone, you could both be tried as war criminals."

"I don't know, I'm having fun." Kono says brightly, walking a little bit ahead of them, ponytail bouncing.

"Yeah." Steve agrees half-heartedly, turning to check on Danny, who is a few steps behind, sulking and mumbling something unflattering about islands in general because he hates Hawaii but doesn't want to discriminate; there's a good chance he'd hate living on any island with equal fervor. Steve happens to know all this because Danny has never had a thought he hasn't felt the need to broadcast, loudly and repeatedly.

"I blame you for this." Danny informs him pointedly when he catches Steve looking. "I don't know how I thought this was a good idea. Your brand of crazy must be contagious and I have been infected, obviously, or I would have done the smart thing and stayed home, like Chin. Chin, who is apparently the only sane person left on this task force."

"You know what?" Steve asks thoughtfully. "This is good for you. You will thank me one day."

"I have a bum knee, okay, genius? The only person thanking you will be my doctor, because you'll be the one covering the medical bills."

"Seriously, guys." Kono says from up ahead. "This was a great idea. I spend too much time on the beach, I'd almost forgotten how pretty it is up here."

"Pretty!" Danny exclaims in indignation. "All I see is rocks, and leaves, and trees, in no extraordinary arrangement."

"You are a joy to be around, truly." Steve deadpans as they finally catch up to Kono.

"You really are, Danny." She agrees lightly with a smile, giving Steve a quick look as if to ask how he deals with this every day.

"Sarcasm, really? It's the lowest form of wit, people. It is the last refuge of the imaginatively bankrupt. You need to work on your trash talk. Both of you."

"Oh, burn." Kono says, sarcastically.

"That hurts, Danny. It really does." Steve adds, knowing it can only get his partner more wound up.

"Ok, that's it." Danny declares, coming to a halt. "I have been walking uphill for two hours, in a hundred thousand degree weather with a couple of tree hugging lunatics who actually appear to be enjoying this. I am turning around and I am walking back to the car and you two can sit here and commune with nature or whatever. I'm done." He says, walking off with a huff.

"I think next time we should just leave him in the car, boss." Kono suggests helpfully, hands on her hips, as they both stare at Danny's retreating back.

You know, that's not a bad idea at all.

**···················**

They're in the break room after another case, drinking beer and just hanging out, Danny talking about his plans with Grace for the weekend.

"I'm taking her to the beach—because _my daughter_, by some freak accident, happens to love the beach, and I happen to love my daughter, so you know. You guys should come."

"Sorry, I've got plans." Kono shrugs. "Tell Gracie hi for me."

"You got plans, let me ask you, are they better than watching my eight year old mock me relentlessly for falling on my face from a surfboard? Cause I'm guessing not." Danny snarks.

"I have to buy a new couch, so…" Kono shrugs again.

"You're buying a new couch?" Steve asks, suddenly interested in the conversation. "Is Chin going with you?"

Kono wrinkles her forehead at him. "To help me buy a new couch?" She asks in a skeptical tone. "Is that a two person job, all of a sudden?"

"Sure it is." Steve hurries to assure her. She does not look convinced.

"Oh yeah." Danny agrees, and for once Steve is glad his partner seems to have an opinion on everything. "Trust me, you need a second opinion. You cannot believe the things that could go wrong with this scenario. In my place with Rachel, the couch was a masterpiece. We bought it together, and I am not exaggerating when I tell you, poems have been written about that couch. And now I'm stuck with a pull out couch from hell." Danny huffs bitterly. "One person decision that I have lived to regret. So take my word for it, you need all the help you can get."

There's a brief silence because wow. Danny obviously has a lot of feelings about this.

"Yeah." Steve continues hesitantly. "I mean, have you ever bought a couch before?"

"…No." Kono admits slowly, and Steve's betting she's seriously regretting bringing up the couch right about now.

"Well, how would you know what to look for?" He points out sensibly, sees her considering it. "Tell you what, I'll come along, help you pick one out." He suggests generously, no ulterior motives whatsoever.

"Right. Okay." She says, still looking a little unsure about where this is all coming from. "Thanks."

"No problem." Steve says with a smile. There's a brief pause, Kono still looking a bit shell shocked at them ganging up on her. Danny leans closer, frowning, lowers his voice so Kono won't overhear.

"You _have_ actually bought a couch before, right?" He asks suspiciously.

Steve sips his beer, pretends not to hear him.

**···················**

"This is the sixteenth couch we've tried." Kono announces drily, shifting on the white leather cushions uncomfortably. "Let's buy this one, I don't even care anymore."

"Leather gets sticky when it's hot." Steve informs her calmly. "And this _is_ Hawaii."

"I give up." She sighs. "No couch can live up to your impossibly high standards." She accuses lightly.

"That is patently untrue. _My_ couch is great." He counters.

"Any poems written about it?" She mocks, smiling as he rolls his eyes. They sit in silence for a bit, watching other customers walk by, Steve narrowing his eyes at an employee who's hovering nearby with obvious plans to disturb them.

"You know what?" Kono starts thoughtfully. "Let's just get the exact same couch."

Steve looks at her, thinks about it.

"No, I'm serious." She insists. "Your couch is so great, let's just get me the same one."

"Sure, okay." He shrugs. "It's a great couch. Pretty easy to clean. Comfortable. Sturdy."

"Know that for a fact?" Kono teases.

Steve laughs. "What is this, high school? I have a bed." He hopes he's not blushing.

"Tell you what, boss. I'll find out and let you know, alright?" She promises, winking at him.

"Yeah, that's…" Steve clears his throat nervously. "That's not—that's not necessary, thank you." He says with some composure, because he's a decorated naval officer for god's sake, it takes more than a twenty something rookie and vague innuendos to make him blush.

Usually.

He's just having an off day.

**···················**

He'll do something stupid once in a while (or three to five times a day, if you're talking to Danny) and Kono will look at him, all wide eyed disbelief and maybe a little awe, like she thinks he's insane but insane is the only way to be really, and if she can't stop him she might as well join him. He remembers Kono is young, and she looks up to him and that should probably feel like some sort of responsibility, more weight on his shoulders, another person to worry about letting down, but—it mostly feels like hope.

So he smiles at her, almost but not quite platonic, and thinks—someday. When she's a little older maybe, not so green at the job, when the power differential doesn't leave him quite so overwhelmed with possibilities and thoughts about how _right now_ is when he can shape the person she'll become.

He catches glimpses of that person, whenever there's a kid involved in a case, how she's so natural and at ease, always seeming to know what to say, and underneath all that something hard as steel, a part of her that never hesitates to work any angle to get a lead. It's almost ruthless, the way she will bend the rules to do what she believes to be right. Ruthless and familiar.

So he smiles and Kono smiles back and you know what? _Right now_ sounds great, actually, screw waiting.

"You ever want kids?" He asks later, when he's sure Danny and Chin are too far away to listen. She furrows her brow at the non sequitur, gives him a look that clearly says he's being weird again.

"Sure, I mean, someday." She shrugs, a strand of dark hair falling to brush against the side of her neck, down across her collarbone until she pulls it back. "How about you, boss?"

"Yeah." He says in a rough voice, clears his throat nervously. "Yeah, sure. Someday." He says, and stops himself from asking her how many. He's thinking three, personally, but that's negotiable.

**···················**

"You sure it's okay for me to be here?" Kono asks again, squinting against the sun and looking around the military base as if expecting someone to come up and arrest her or something. A couple of soldiers walking by are looking her over in obvious interest but Steve severely doubts their plans involve handcuffs. No, wait. Kono. In handcuffs.

Well, great. Now _he's_ thinking about it.

"No one's gonna bother you, okay? Trust me." He says reassuringly, handing her the rifle and trying to avoid eye contact because holy fucking shit his brain hates him. "Now go on." He smirks, gestures towards the targets. "Let's see what you got."

She narrows her eyes at him but stays quiet, laying on the ground to set up the shot.

"Five hundred yards." She announces seriously. "One to the head."

"Ambitious, are we?" Steve chuckles under his breath, leaning down to watch through the lens. Kono ignores him, fires and makes the shot, one bullet to the head, just like she predicted.

Well, damn.

"You were saying boss?" She asks lightly as she gets up and starts dusting off, eyebrow raised in challenge, rifle hanging by her side. The girl is a fucking menace and he is completely turned on right now.

"Nice shooting." He says eventually. Kono smiles a knowing smile, as if she can tell exactly what he's thinking about.

**···················**

They practice some more, Kono shamelessly scamming him out of forty bucks when he bets her she can't make the target at seven hundred yards, as if he doesn't know better by now. They walk to his jeep, Steve packing up the rifle while Kono leans against the car and looks around surreptitiously, like she's still not quite sure she's allowed to be here.

"So that was impressive." Steve remarks, getting her to look at him. She smiles widely, flips her hair over one shoulder, shrugs, acting casual.

"I _am_ pretty awesome." She jokes, eyes sparkling with humor. She looks amazing.

"You are." He agrees in a serious voice, closing the trunk to walk up to her. He gets in her personal space, his hands going on either side of her so she's pretty much trapped. Kono just smiles at him, leans back on her elbows imperceptibly, but otherwise doesn't move an inch. He's learned this early on—Kono is not someone he can intimidate. He stands there, almost indecently close, studying her face carefully. There's voices somewhere to their left, and he sees her glance over calmly, then turn back to him.

"You okay boss?" She asks, expression unreadable.

"I'm great." He says honestly. They look at each other some more, Steve vaguely entertaining an idea about leaning closer, maybe trying to kiss her. Her face breaks into an amused smile again, as if she read his mind.

"There are people around." She reminds him pointedly. She still doesn't try to move away.

"I know." He says, because he _does_ know. He's just not convinced he cares right now. Kono quirks an eyebrow like she's not buying it and Steve laughs. "I'm just looking." He promises in a soft voice and it's bullshit, but whatever.

His phone rings, Danny calling about a case, and he doesn't kiss her. But it's close.

**···················**


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own anything; all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s).

**···················**

The car is a classic, a black 1974 Mercury Marquis, and it takes Kono all of five minutes to see that Steve really has no idea what he's doing here.

"Okay, Steve. I'm going to have to ask you to put that wrench down and step away from the engine. Slowly." She says with a laugh, hands outstretched as if to prevent him from making any sudden movements. Steve turns to glare at her half-heartedly, but steps back in the process so, you know, mission accomplished.

"What am I doing wrong?" He asks warily, probably self-aware enough to know he sucks at this. Kono opens her mouth to speak then gapes at him for a sec because there's really no polite way to say this.

"Everything. There is nothing from what I just saw that you were doing right." She says emphatically. "Seriously, I think it's time to pick a different hobby."

"I am fixing this car, alright?" He says with finality, avoiding her eyes. "It was my dad's car." He adds in a small voice, and Kono bites back a sigh because he might as well have a neon sign over his head that reads "_proceed with caution: may require years of therapy."_

"Okay, well, you need supervision. Like, maybe constant supervision. Or you could just take it to a mechanic." She suggests helpfully. Steve turns to glare at her.

"It's my dad's car." He repeats earnestly and she takes that to mean no mechanics are allowed within a fifty mile radius. She's ninety percent sure a mechanic would actually come cheaper than Steve just ordering random parts off the internet and hoping they work out, but she's working on her tact so she chooses not to say this out loud. She does _think_ it very insistently, but Steve does not appear to be receiving her telepathic signals. Crap.

"Well. I guess_ I_ could help?" She offers hesitantly, still not sure how involved in this she wants to get. I mean. Steve is being kind of weird about this car.

"That would be great." Steve smiles widely, steps forward to pull her into an impromptu hug. Oh. Okay then. She stands for a second, trying to figure out what to do with her hands, settles for a pat on his back. He just pulls her closer.

So. This seems excessively drawn out for a hug, really, and they are neither of them particularly tactile people. I mean, they don't even hug after near death experiences. That would just make for a ridiculous amount of hugs.

"Steve."

"Hm?"

"Kind of crushing me here."

"Right. Sorry." He apologizes sheepishly, stepping back. He's still smiling.

Okay then.

**···················**

"You know, you spend an awful lot of time with Kono." Danny accuses from the passenger seat.

"Well, Danny, I _like_ Kono." Steve explains slowly, as if talking to an idiot, which—let's face it. Short sentences, he finds, are less likely to provoke one of his partner's frequent incomprehensible rants.

"I know you like Kono." Danny scoffs dismissively. "Everybody likes Kono. People who have never _met_ Kono probably like Kono. Which is why I am telling you: you're spending too much time with her."

Steve just turns to throw Danny an unimpressed look. "Is this going somewhere or...?"

"I just feel I should point out, as your partner and friend, that you might be in danger of liking Kono a little too much, if you know what I mean." Danny says in a tone that suggests someone had to bring it up sooner or later so, you know, don't shoot the messenger or anything.

"Oh, I get it." Steve smiles. "You're feeling threatened. That's kind of cute."

"Okay, first of all, no, I'm not threatened by your pre-adolescent crush on Kono, alright? And I am officially vetoing your use of the word _cute_ in relation to my person. What I'm saying is…" Danny trails off, seems to run out of steam. "I don't know what I'm saying."

Steve turns to see Danny deflate, rubbing his temples as if he has a migraine. Steve wants to say that he gets it, reassure Danny that he wouldn't do anything to mess up the team, only there's a very good chance that he would. Who is he kidding? He absolutely fucking would, and probably _will_ at some point in the near future. So he settles for something more general.

"Look." He says hesitantly, because this might classify as talking about his feelings and he tries to avoid that more often than not. "Kono and I are friends."

Danny huffs, crosses his arms across his chest. "You don't want my advice? That's fine. I'm just telling you, this is a potentially volatile situation. You two are in a fucking collision course, alright? And if someone doesn't put on the breaks soon, we'll be counting bodies." He says, sounding dead serious.

"That's…curiously macabre." Steve remarks flatly after a long pause, trying to lighten the mood a bit because, okay, he's not ready to talk about this.

"Well, it's not _my_ fault your love life bears an uncanny resemblance to a disaster zone."

"Wow. Okay. Disaster zone. Really. You are just overflowing with wisdom today."

"You know what? Fuck you, Steven. How's that for wisdom?"

"That's real mature, Danny. Sound advice. Let me write it down."

"Just—shut up, okay? I have a headache."

**···················**

"I want your life." Kali moans forlornly, slumped over her coffee. Kono just sips her overpriced latte and looks at her friend impassively.

"You can't have my life." She says reasonably. "Unless you're planning to kill me and that was a death threat. In which case please tell me now because I don't want to die in mismatched underwear."

Kali just huffs, not looking up from where the side of her face is plastered to the table top. "You're not wearing mismatched underwear." She mumbles dismissively.

"How do you even know that? I could be." Kono says defensively. Why are they even talking about this? Kali lifts her head just a bit, just enough to shoot her an are-you-kidding-me look.

"So okay. I just skipped the bra." Kono concedes reluctantly. "But that's equally embarrassing."

Kali slumps down again, so Kono can only see the back of her head and some of her forehead. "My partner hates me." She announces dramatically. "The supervisors hate me. Everyone hates me."

"I'm sure it's not that bad." Kono tries to comfort her. "Why would everyone hate you?"

"No, you're right. They don't hate me. Hate implies taking an active interest in someone. They just find me vaguely distasteful."

"Talking to the back of your head is getting ridiculous." Kono interjects, because Kali can get carried away with the dramatics sometimes. Her friend sits up, glaring at her.

"What do you know, anyway." She pouts childishly. "Your job is great. Your coworkers like you, you're always hanging out with your boss, for god's sake. Me? I spent the weekend catching up on my paperwork. I don't even remember what a social life looks like at this point."

Kono smiles sympathetically, pats her hand. Sips her coffee. When Kali gets in these moods it's best to just nod and agree and wait for it to blow over.

"But enough about me." Kali says, sighing. "How was your weekend?" She asks grudgingly, as if she's not sure she wants to know.

"It was fine." Kono says, because anything more enthusiastic would probably come off as insensitive.

"No, come on, tell me. What did you do?" Kali insists, as if to make up for the ranting.

"Well, you know. I caught some good waves, did some laundry." She replies diplomatically.

"That took all weekend?" Kali asks, looking skeptical. Kono sighs.

"I went scuba diving with Steve on Saturday." She admits finally. "Then the whole team met up for drinks."

Kali looks at her blankly for a second, as if trying to determine her chances of getting away with murdering someone in a crowded diner. "I hate you." She declares resignedly. Kono just laughs.

"Are you sure? Maybe you just find me vaguely distasteful."

**···················**

This happens sometimes. She'll spend months not even thinking about it and then the weather will change, humidity setting in until the air is almost damp, giving everything a surreal tint, like you're suddenly in an old French movie, probably one with no discernible plot and long shots of people walking down abandoned city streets half drank.

Also, it serves as a vivid reminder of why she doesn't have a surfing career anymore: there are sharp, blinding flashes of pain from her knee, ghosts of injuries past. She usually just takes some painkillers, actively pursues getting stuck with the paperwork (Danny is more than happy to oblige and knows better than to ask any questions), tries to tough it out. It only lasts for a day or too, most of the time.

She doesn't talk about it with Chin, because Chin was there and he knows how fucking painful it was for her, how close she came to losing it before one day deciding that fuck it, she was going to do something with her life, and she was going to be great at it, she was going to get national holidays named after her and stuff, and maybe her own fucking marble statue, because FUCK you, alright, she'd look great in marble and didn't you hear? Ambition is the new black—it got her here anyway.

She's debriefing the guys on the case, leaning her weight on the Microsoft table and very determinedly trying not to flinch. She pulls it off, barely, even manages to smile at Danny's crack at the suspect's ex-wife. She looks down at her hands, fingers gripping the table so hard her knuckles are white, then looks up again at Steve calling her name.

"Can I see you in my office?" He says, not really asking, but you know. What else is new? She keeps her face composed as she follows him there, and he closes the door behind her as if to give them some privacy, glass walls notwithstanding. She bets all the glass details were the governor's idea; some bullshit metaphor for transparency, probably. How like a politician to try to send a message by interfering with the office décor. But whatever. At least it's pretty?

"Have a seat." Steve nods at one of the chairs in front of his desk. The chairs, too, seem to be about design more than comfort, so no thanks. Kono is fine standing.

"I'm fine, thanks." She assures him, clutching the back of a chair, just in case she falls over from the BLINDING FUCKING PAIN from her knee. But you know, other than that she's just peachy.

"You sure? Cause you've spend most of the day propping yourself up on nearby furniture. I'm pretty sure a pat on the back would knock you over at this point." Steve says bluntly, wearing a look of reproach. Kono exhales slowly, shoulders slumping forward.

"It's my knee." She admits tiredly. Steve nods as if he already knew this, stares at her for a beat.

"Okay. This is going to happen one of two ways. You can go back to your desk, do some paperwork until six then go home, and we'll pretend this never happened. Or you can be stubborn about this and I can throw you over my shoulder and drive you home right now. Guess which option will be more entertaining for me." He says, completely straight-faced so she can't tell if he's bluffing. Better not take the chance; if Steve _does_ go through with it, Chin will probably film it and upload it to youtube, and she's not sure her reputation can survive it.

"Paperwork it is." She agrees quickly, goes to leave.

"Kono?" She hears Steve call, turning around. He looks tense and serious, like he's actually worried and her chest gets tight, because she didn't realize she had so much power over him until right this moment and it's both scary and exhilarating.

"Next time this happens, just tell me. Alright?" He says carefully, looking at her with some emotion she can't identify.

"Yeah." Her voice is weak, gravelly, so she clears her throat and tries it again. "Yeah, alright." She promises, walking out.

**···················**


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own anything; all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s).

**···················**

"Want some?" Danny asks, holding out the obnoxiously pink box of malasadas to Steve.

"No thanks." Steve answers drily, eyes on the road.

"Is that condescension I detect in your tone, Steven? I thought you'd be happy I have found something on this pineapple infested, no tie wearing island that can put me in a better mood. I mean, _no ties_, Steven. They don't even _sell_ ties here, I checked. It's like an infinite loop of casual Fridays." Danny exclaims in dismay. "I _hate_ casual Fridays."

"That figures." Steve nods gravely.

"No, look at this." Danny says, waving the open box around, as if to make absolutely certain the crumbs get equally distributed all over the car. "How can you stand there, indifferent in the face of perfection? Look at this, there's sugar, and other things, but mostly sugar, and you know what they should call this?"

"Diabetes?" Steve ventures. Just a wild guess here.

"Euphoria." Danny continues, disregarding the interruption. "This, right in this box, is the food of happy people. This is the food of people who have never been shot, never been divorced, never had you as a partner. So please. Let me enjoy this without a lecture about my eating habits. Just this once."

"I don't know that I can do that." Steve admits sadly. Danny turns to gape at him in indignation.

"Wha—Why? Why can't you do that? Why, Steve, why?"

Steve shrugs. "I'm just looking out for you, Danno." He explains reasonably. "You're thirty four years old. You can't keep eating like a teenager, I'm just saying."

"Oh ho, nice. Bringing my age into this. Nice touch." Danny scoffs, closing the bright pink box carefully and turning to glare out the window crossly. This basically means he doesn't have a comeback, so Steve takes a minute to revel in his victory.

"You give your girlfriend the same speech on her sugar consumption?" Danny says after a minute or so, because he's a sore loser and doesn't know when to give up.

"My girlfriend?" Steve repeats incomprehensibly, furrowing his brow.

"Yeah, you know. Kono. Did she get the same lecture?"

Steve glances at Danny uncertainly. "You realize Kono is not my girlfriend, right?"

"Because let me tell you, you want to talk about unhealthy eating habits? The girl practically lives on ice cream." Danny says in a disapproving tone, and when Steve looks over again, Danny is staring at him expectantly.

"Okay fine." Steve admits, caving. "She did get the same speech. She gets the same speech every time we're in a diner and she orders the entire dessert menu. She gets the same speech so often she has memorized it and quotes it back at me."

"Well, newsflash, Steven. The speech is not working. You need a new speech; in fact, you need to quit with the speech making entirely. Let people eat what they may, terrifying though the thought must seem to you."

Steve shrugs, tilts his head as if considering something.

"What?" His partner snaps impatiently.

"Well, I don't know. The speech can't be that bad." Steve points out evenly. "I mean, you're not eating anymore, right?"

"I can't eat when I'm upset." Danny grumbles, sounding frustrated. There's a pause during which Steve contemplates not gloating but you know, what would be the fun in that?

"So the speech _does_ work."

Danny just scowls, hugging the box of malasadas to his chest tightly and gives Steve the silent treatment all the way back to the office. Which, all in all, is not as awful a punishment as Danny seems to think it is.

**···················**

Kono's stretched out on the lounge chair, one hand hanging loosely by her side, fingers almost brushing against the sand, the other pressing the chilled bottle of beer to the side of her neck in a vain effort to cool down. She really should just go for a quick swim, if she can ever work up the will to move.

They're hanging out at Steve's place, on the lanai, trying to enjoy a rare day off in spite of the heat wave, even though Kono is not convinced it's working so far. She glances to her left, where Steve is collapsed on an identical lounge chair, not even bothering with his beer. He looks like he's asleep, maybe in a coma. He's only wearing a pair of swim trunks so she still takes a minute to appreciate the view before she sighs, downs the rest of her beer, nudges Steve's chair with her foot.

"You still alive there, boss?"

Steve just grunts in response.

"At least put on some sunscreen or you'll burn." She cautions. "Although it might be too late for your nose. You look like Rudolph the reindeer."

He opens an eye at this, looking less than impressed with her humor, then sighs, bringing a hand to rub his nose. "You do it. I can't move."

"Do what?"

Steve waves a hand in the approximate direction of the sunscreen, eyes closed again.

"You need help putting on sunscreen?" She asks incredulously. "What are you, five?"

Steve doesn't respond to this, appearing to have fallen back into that half asleep daze the heat can bring on. Unless it's sunstroke. That is also a possibility they shouldn't rush to dismiss. Kono stares at his chest for a beat, like she's in a trance, and this heat is not helping with anything because before she knows it she's picking up the bottle of sunscreen and straddling his lap.

Steve opens his eyes to look at her, startled, hands automatically going to her hips.

"What are you doing?" He asks, voice tense. Kono doesn't reply, just uncaps the bottle and starts applying sunscreen to his shoulders and chest, then lower, down his abs, until Steve's fingers are digging into her skin, like he's trying very hard to stay still. She's pretty sure he's stopped breathing, actually.

She smirks at him, raises an eyebrow, trailing her fingers up his chest slowly. "There. All done." She tosses the bottle aside, tries to get up, but Steve doesn't let go of his grip on her waist, keeping her there. He's looking at her, careful to maintain eye contact as he tugs on her wrist until she leans forward, arms going around his neck so she's pressed against him, and this feels more comfortable than it probably should.

"You're kind of a tease, you know that?" Steve says gruffly, not sounding like he minds that much.

"It was your idea." She points out, because she's five apparently, and whatever. His hand climbs up her back, playing with the knot of her bikini top, and she exhales shakily, because oh my god this is actually happening. She's staring at his mouth, inches from her and why is he not kissing her yet?

"What are you waiting for, an engraved invitation?" She asks, going for sarcastic but only managing to sound breathless. Steve is studying her face closely, as if waiting for her to freak out or stop him or something.

"I didn't want to do anything you're not comfortable with." He says hesitantly.

"Oh, for fuck's sake—" Kono rolls her eyes at his general cluelessness, leans in to kiss him, and that's all the encouragement he needs because he kisses her back heatedly, hands tangling in her hair, and they're half naked already so it looks like this will finally happen and Kono wants to thank every deity that's listening because yes, yes, yes. He bucks his hips, grinding her against him, and she moans in his mouth, and they're just getting to second base when Kono hears the sound of the front door closing.

"Steve?" Danny calls from somewhere inside.

They freeze, stare at each other with comically horrified expressions and then Kono's tying her bikini top and trying to untangle her hair, while Steve just falls back on the chair, exhaling in frustration and looking like he wants to punch something.

"Steven?" Danny calls again, and Steve flexes his jaw, closing his eyes and—is he counting backwards from ten? That's kind of hilarious, in an I-wish-this-was-happening-to-someone-else-so-I-could-sit-back-and-laugh-at-them kind of way.

Kono goes to get up, get back in her seat, but Steve grabs her waist again. "Oh no." He says tersely. "You're not moving right now." He announces, sounding final. And okay, it occurs to her how this situation is exponentially harder for him, and yes, that's right—Kono is at that point where she has to make sucky puns to find the humor in this situation.

"Well don't you two look cozy." Danny says drily, having finally located them. Kono is leaning back against Steve's chest, pretending to sip at his beer, which is now lukewarm at best. Steve must look displeased, because Danny raises an eyebrow, hands on his waist.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Am I interrupting?" He asks in fake concern, walking over to the lounge chair Kono was sitting in before and making himself comfortable. "I would have knocked, you know, but you probably wouldn't have heard it over the whole wave-crashing thing. See how that can get annoying?"

Kono just rolls her eyes and concentrates on trying not to throw the beer bottle at him.

**···················**

Steve is getting in his car, ready to drive away from the crime scene, away from the bodies of two dead cops and the witness who was basically their only case against Wo Fat, ready to drive to the governor's and do the exact opposite of what he just seconds ago promised Danny he'd do, which was sit around and wait, giving everyone plenty of time to get rid of any incriminating evidence like, oh I don't know, _the contents to his dad's toolbox._ Then suddenly the passenger side door opens, Kono getting in and shutting the door behind her.

Steve turns to look at her questioningly, because he's pretty sure she was Chin's ride here and what? Is she going to leave him here? Her favorite cousin stranded at a crime scene, having to ask some random HPD cop for a ride back to HQ? That doesn't seem likely. She's worrying her bottom lip nervously, looking like she's working up the courage to say something and Steve realizes with a start that she knows, _of course_ she knows where he's planning to go, like Danny would have known if he hadn't been so distracted after getting that call from Rachel. Kono knows him too well, and she can tell when he's about to be stupid.

His throat gets tight with some emotion he can't identify, because he might make jokes about this being a dictatorship but if Kono actually asks him not to go? He doesn't know if he can look at her and deny her anything.

This is so not the time to be having an epiphany about his _feelings for Kono_, of all things.

He decides to stop her before she has the time to say anything, because this is something he _needs_ to do, regardless of how reckless it seems, and he needs her to understand that—but then she sighs loudly and turns her face away, looking tired and frustrated.

"You can relax boss, I'm not here to stop you." She says in a flat voice, still staring out the window, as if she doesn't want to look at him. "I know you think you need to do this."

He waits, but she doesn't say anything more. He looks at her hands, fingers clenched in tight fists at her side, and it occurs to him she—she knows she could stop him, probably. She could tell Danny, or Chin, she could steal his car keys or handcuff him to her side, or even just look at him, wide eyed and earnest and serious and say _please_, and he'd have no choice in the matter, but she _won't_. Not because she agrees with him, but because she trusts him.

He reaches over, placing a hand over hers to still her trembling fingers, and she finally turns to look at him again. "Hey. I'll be careful, okay? No need to worry."

She snorts in disbelief, as if that's completely preposterous, and he doesn't know if she doubts his promise to be careful or her own ability to stop worrying. She looks down at their hands, looking young and vulnerable and why is he getting so ridiculously sentimental right now he has no idea.

She withdraws her hand slowly, reaches for the handle. "Just—try not to get caught, alright?" She says finally, opening the door and getting out. "And call me when you're done, for fuck's sake." She adds in a tight voice then slams the door loudly behind her, not waiting for an answer, and Steve stares after her for a moment before starting the car and driving off.

**···················**


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own anything; all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s).

**···················**

II.

He spends the whole fucking day feeling like he's supposed to be someplace else and okay, maybe a kidnapping case should take precedence over everything but it doesn't _freeze time_ so he still doesn't make it to Kono's hearing. When he calls it goes straight to voicemail and he realizes with a sinking feeling she must be in there right now, while he's still in the middle of nowhere in crazy cult farm central and what the fuck can he say over the phone to make this better? He tries anyway, apologizing for not being there, promising that everything will be alright regardless of the verdict, because this is fact: he will get Kono her job back even if it means showing up there and confessing to stealing the money himself; that _is_, after all, what actually happened.

He pauses, listening to the background noise of people rushing around behind him, readying the chartered plane that will fly them back to the island and Steve inwardly curses the timing of this case and this hearing and of everything that has chosen to go wrong in his life just when he thought things were getting better.

He sighs, rubs his forehead tiredly.

"You _know_ I wanted to be there." He says again, as if that makes any difference now. "I'll be by later, okay? I—" The machine cuts him off and he takes this as a cosmic sign that there will possibly be another, less unfortunate time to admit that he loves her.

"—love you." He finishes quietly, staring at his phone forlornly for a second before turning around and almost walking into Officer Weston.

"Oh, I'm sorry." She flushes, looking uncomfortable. "I didn't mean...We're ready for takeoff." She explains, pointing in the direction of the plane. Steve just nods, too distracted to be properly annoyed with her for overhearing him.

They board the plane, Weston right behind him, and Danny walks over to intercept them, looking worried.

"Did you talk to Kono?" He demands with a frown, because he's a detective and he detects things and when Steve said he had to make a call and left Danny in charge it probably didn't take an investigative genius to figure out what was so urgent.

Steve just shakes his head. "Voicemail." He explains simply, collapsing into a seat. Danny pats his shoulder comfortingly, but doesn't seem confident enough to offer any reassurances.

They hardly talk for the rest of the flight.

**···················**

He spends the next couple of weeks in a state of semi-permanent distraction, paying just enough attention to the cases they're working on to make sure he doesn't get Danny shot again.

Things are weird around the office without Kono there, and tense. Lori has been tagging along whenever he and Danny drive to crime scenes or speak to suspects and Steve has been too preoccupied to wonder about the reason behind this. She's supposed to be a profiler; surely field work is not on her job description. But then again, he guesses staying at HQ would make it significantly harder for her to report back to the governor on whether everyone's behaving themselves.

In other news, Kono is not speaking to him. She left him a message saying she was fine and needed some time to calm down, she'll call him when she wants to talk and not to worry and now she's refusing to come to the door whenever he stops by her house. He doesn't know what the fuck is going on, and he hopes she's not blaming him for losing her badge, even though she'd have every right to. He leaves a few messages on her voicemail, littered with awkward pauses and unfinished sentences and Danny is starting to look at him like Steve's getting on his last nerve with all the brooding.

"Earth to Steve." Danny calls, his tone suggesting this is not the first time he's tried to catch his attention, and Steve looks up from his desk to see his partner standing by the door. "You still in there?" He asks in exasperation.

"Yeah." Steve clears his throat. "Sorry. You needed something?" Danny huffs and shakes his head in what Steve suspects to be disapproval.

"Okay, that's it. I am staging an intervention." Danny declares ominously, closing Steve's office door. "I know things are shitty right now." He says, walking closer and gesturing wildly with his hands. "Believe me when I say that no one can appreciate exactly how shitty things are right now more than me. But you need to get it together babe."

"What are you even talking about?"

"I am talking about the pod person who's been impersonating my partner for the past couple of weeks, okay? Steve-bot is freaking me out. I will take you raging and thinking you're bulletproof every day as long as I don't have to deal with you in full on teenage angst mode." Danny cries, voice pitching in outrage. Steve, predictably, takes offense to this.

"What do you want from me Danny? To just pretend everything's alright? Kono lost her job because of me. _Her badge_. And now she's decided she doesn't want to talk to me anymore. So I guess you're gonna have to deal with _teenage angst mode_ for a while cause I can't fucking deal with this shit right now okay?" He's shouting by the end of this, and it feels good to be talking about this openly instead of trying to act like Kono is on vacation or something, like she'll be back next month and everything will just magically go back to normal.

Danny takes a deep breath, looks at him like he's pathetic, which all right, he can own up to. "You think you're the only person on this team who misses Kono, Steve? You think you're the only one she's pushing away? What's the matter with you?" He half shouts, frustrated. "She's not talking to me, she's not talking to Chin, for god's sake, _Chin,_ and I'm pretty sure she thinks Chin hung the moon or something. So stop beating yourself up and do something to _fix this_."

Steve looks at him for a beat, trying to figure out if he's really been so busy with his pity party that he didn't notice Kono was keeping everyone at arm's length, including her favorite cousin. Danny sighs at Steve's puzzled expression, his annoyance appearing to fade in the face of complete and unabridged stupidity.

"Okay, let me spell it out for you. Something is going on with Kono and she's not talking to anyone about it. And since she's, like, Bonnie to your Clyde or something—you know, in a happily-ever-after you-think-she's-your-soulmate kind of way, not in a let's-murder-people-and-get-killed-in-a-shootout kind of way, one can only hope—and my point is you need to step up and _do_ something about this. You got it? Need me to write it down for you?"

"I got it." Steve snaps, if only to get him to stop talking. And also because maybe Danny's right and he needs to stop trying to give Kono some space and start trying to actually be there for her.

"Great. Because I'm not having this conversation again." Danny warns seriously, before breaking into a smirk. "And by the way, I don't know if you've noticed in your coma like state, but Lori has a huge crush on you." Steve frowns confusedly and opens his mouth to deny this, but Danny puts a hand up to shush him. "She has. It's hilariously awkward and I'm sure she doesn't know you're spoken for, but you might want to let her know she's wasting her time there."

"Danny." Steve says warningly, because he's being ridiculous. "Get out. Please."

"Try to let her down gently, though. We don't need her crying about it to the governor."

"Out."

Danny throws his hands up in compliance and leaves.

**···················**

It's two in the morning when Ray Mapes drops her off at her place because that's the kind of hours she keeps now, trying to pretend she's one of these low life creeps. Her hair smells like cigarette smoke and the black dress that seemed so practical earlier is getting uncomfortable.

She's planning on going straight to the shower but when she walks in Steve is sitting on the couch, waiting for her. She pauses with her hand on the knob, frowning.

"Steve? How did you get in here?"

Steve just looks at her as if to say, really? And holds up a key.

"I helped you hide the spare key, remember?" He says in a voice that she can tell he's trying very hard to keep neutral. She closes the door behind her, walks over to sit on the couch next to him, the nice comfortable couch he helped her pick out because he's her friend and he cares about her having a good couch and she feels like shit for avoiding him, all right?

"What are you doing here, Steve?" She asks wearily. Steve looks like he wants to say a lot in response to this, things like you've been avoiding me, or you're not returning any of my calls, or you don't answer when I stop by even though your car is parked out front, but what he says is this.

"I've missed you."

He shrugs, smiling at her warmly, like she's his favorite person on the planet and this is justification enough for breaking into her apartment like a crazy stalker when she clearly has a reason for trying to keep her distance.

Kono rolls her eyes at him, can't help a small smile of her own. "That's smooth, boss." She mocks. "I can see how you got that nickname."

Steve laughs, a sound that's unsure and shaky, like he's afraid he's forgotten how to do it, which is how he always sounds on the rare occasions she manages to surprise him into anything more than a smile. Her annoyance thaws a bit, and she realizes she might have missed him more than she thought she would. She's just used to spending so much time with him, long hours at work when they had a case and then again on most weekends, it was kind of idiotic to think she could go cold turkey without major side effects. Like having to repress the persistent urge to hug him.

"So, want to tell me why you're wearing that dress?" Steve asks, tilting his head inquisitively. Right. He was bound to bring it up sometime.

"What, you don't like it? I've been told I look very good in black." She deflects playfully and how she still has the energy to flirt after the day she's had is nothing short of a miracle.

"You look good in everything." Steve replies simply, looking singularly unimpressed with her attempts to distract him. Kono sighs in defeat, tired of this game already. She fucking told Fryer she couldn't lie to Steve convincingly to save her fucking life.

"I was out with some people." She admits finally, not offering up more than she has to, but still not technically lying.

"You gonna tell me what's going on with you?" He asks, deciding on a more direct approach and Kono tilts her head to the side, as if considering this.

"No." She smiles mischievously. "Let's change the subject." She suggests, scooting closer to him on the couch. "How's it been at work? Is the new girl any good?"

Steve sighs and shakes his head, even as he puts an arm around her shoulders to tuck her closer to his side. "You're going to tell me sooner or later." He announces with certainty, but she can hear the strain in his voice, like he hates this, hates her pulling away and acting like a stranger and keeping things from him. "We're family, right?"

Kono turns to bury her face in the crook of his neck, so close she's half draped over his lap at this point, and wraps an arm around him so she's hugging him tightly because Five-O is her ohana, badge or no badge, and that's why she's doing this. And besides. What's a little deceit and misdirection between friends?

**···················**


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I don't own anything; all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s).

**···················**

The elevator doors close behind Lori and Danny, hiding them from Steve's view and drowning out the steady chatter of conversation. He irritably wonders what they could possibly be talking about, then huffs in disapproval of Danny's indiscriminate chattiness.

"Hey, Steve. Can I talk to you for a moment?" Chin asks in his eternally formal tone. It's actually sort of amusing, coming from a guy who wears floral print shirts that can probably be spotted from outer space. "It's about Kono." Chin adds somberly, and Steve instantly straightens up and turns to face him fully.

"What's wrong?"

"She used my password to access the HPD database. When I talked to her about it, she told me she wanted to look at her file, see what IA had against her." Chin says in a neutral tone, as if he wants to leave it up to Steve to decide whether that's plausible or not.

"It doesn't sound like you believe her." Steve counters, because Chin wouldn't be bringing this up otherwise. Chin's face remains impassive.

"She's been hanging out with some ex cops, dirty ex cops, the kind of people she used to look down on and—she won't tell me what's going on with her. I thought maybe she'd talk to you." He suggests, looking mildly uncomfortable, like he's not used to depending on anyone's help when it comes to Kono.

"I'll take care of it." Steve promises simply. He thinks about Kono, who has been studiously avoiding any real conversation, staying vague on what she's been doing with her time. Steve hasn't wanted to press her so far because Kono spent two weeks ignoring him and he bets she can just go back to it if he does anything to piss her off.

But Chin is trusting him with this because he's worried, and experience has taught him a worried Chin is never a good sign.

**···················**

She meets Fryer in the back of a disgustingly filthy take out restaurant, turns down his offer of French fries and tells him the latest on what Delano has asked her to do. He gives sharp instructions, warns her not to mess this up, makes a passing remark on what a pity it would be if her cousin suddenly came under investigation again, just when he managed to clear his name. When she leaves, walking to end of the block where she's parked her car, Steve is leaning against it, hands crossed over his chest. She stops a few steps away, trying not to look around worriedly because nothing screams suspicious more than a fidgety, shifty eyed individual in the middle of this neighborhood.

"You follow me here, boss?" She asks, because if she didn't spot a tail today when she was specifically looking for it, she might have to rethink this whole deep cover business and try modeling. She hears there's good money in that, and apparently she's got the right bone structure for it. Not to mention her exquisite clavicle.

"Your phone has GPS." He offers calmly, as if he has every right to track her down like a stray pet or something. "What? No take out?" He asks, sounding amused at her lack of forethought.

"Turns out I wasn't hungry." She covers weakly, clutching her car keys with shaky hands. She can't help herself and glances over her shoulder nervously, then back at Steve.

"Were you meeting someone?" He asks, and Kono opens her mouth to deny this only he speaks before she has a chance to. "I saw Fryer go in a while ago. I guess you both like the same take out." He says pointedly. She can't see his eyes behind his sunglasses but he looks like he's not moving before he gets some answers.

"Can we do this some place less public?" Kono asks desperately. Steve looks at her steadily for a while and then nods, walking to the passenger side and waiting for her to unlock the car with a hand on the doorknob. Kono actually meant some place like a badly lit coffee shop or an underground tunnel or her house or something, but okay, sure, the car will have to do.

She unlocks it, gets in warily. Steve is already in the passenger seat but he stays quiet, waiting patiently for an explanation.

"I'm undercover for IA." She says finally. Steve turns to look at her, eyes burning with emotion, jaw clenched. "I couldn't tell anyone." She adds defensively, looking away at the face of his disapproval.

"Undercover." He repeats under his breath, sounding incredulous. "Do you wear a wire?" He asks tersely. "Do you have a team standing by, ready to get you out in case anything goes wrong? Does anyone other than Fryer even know about this, you think?" His voice gets progressively angrier, like he thinks she must be stupid or desperate or both to trust in anything Fryer told her.

"You think I have a choice here?" She snaps, and knows immediately it was the wrong thing to say.

"Of course you have a choice, Kono." He half shouts. "You can choose _not_ to recklessly endanger your life. You think Fryer is looking out for your best interests here? Because I can promise you, he's not."

"Don't you think I know that?" She asks, voice strained. Steve turns away, takes a deep breath as if consciously trying to calm down. There are people walking by the parked car, going about their lives, and Kono feels mildly ridiculous having this conversation here, now.

"What does he have you doing?" Steve asks after a small pause. Kono bites her lip nervously.

"I don't think I should tell you." She says hesitantly, and Steve flinches like she's slapped him. He turns slowly, with the look of someone who can't believe he's heard right.

"_What?"_

"I shouldn't be talking to you about this at all." She reiterates, this time with more conviction. Steve just stares at her, and his face shuts down, until he looks cold and distant, the face of a stranger.

"Of course." He says bitterly. "I'm just—someone you used to work with, right? You don't owe me any explanations."

Kono feels like hitting him. "That's not what I said. You know it's not like that."

"Then _tell_ _me_." He demands, looking like he's barely restraining himself from reaching out and—what? What does he want to do, exactly?

Her phone rings, the shrill noise making her jump. She's thought about changing the ringtone, but anything less annoying and she wouldn't hear it in the middle of the night, whenever Steve calls with a new case. Called. Whenever Steve _called_ with a new case. She can probably change it now she's joined the ranks of the unemployed.

"I have to take this." She says, trying to choke down on her panic as she stares at the caller ID and sees it's Mapes. Steve doesn't react, so she answers, smoothing out her voice.

"Hey." She says, determinedly avoiding Steve's eyes.

"Frank wants to see you." Ray starts, not wasting time on pleasantries. "At the club."

"Right now?"

"Yeah." He says sharply. "That gonna be a problem?"

"No." She snaps back, clenching her jaw. "I'll be there in twenty." She hangs up, turns to Steve.

"I could pull your cell phone records, see who that was." He threatens casually.

"And I could have Fryer seal my phone records." She retorts, tired of the attitude. "So I think we're at an impasse."

The silence stretches out, Steve still staring at her with an inscrutable expression. It doesn't seem as if he likes her very much right at this moment. She tries to remember how he looked at her that night he let himself into her place, warm and affectionate and almost like he—but the memory is so faded now, she might as well have imagined it.

"I need to go." She says eventually, clutching the steering wheel with white knuckled fingers.

"Go where?" He asks tersely, and Kono rolls her eyes heavenwards to ask for patience, turning to glare at him. Steve clenches his jaw like he does when he's trying not to punch someone, a trick she imagines works better when the person across from him believes there's an actual chance of that happening.

"I'll call you when I'm home, okay?" She offers in a placating tone, and Steve just shakes his head, clenches his jaw some more. Oooh. _Scary_.

"We're not done talking about this." He says seriously, opening the door to get out. "And if I don't hear from you in a couple of hours, I'm tracking your phone again and sending every available HPD officer at your location."

He slams the door shut behind him, and Kono jumps, even though she was bracing herself for it.

**···················**

Kono swerves the car sharply to the left, cutting off a jeep and causing an explosion of rude gestures and one loudly shouted suggestion that she do something with herself that sounds anatomically implausible. She doesn't even flinch, stepping on the gas petal and willing the light to stay green, while she shoots panicked glances to the passenger seat where Dwight is panting heavily, clutching his bloody shirt and generally looking like someone who is very close to dying.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Fuck. Dwight is bleeding out next to her, and this car is a rental for god's sake, how will she ever explain all the blood and she does not want to think about the fact that Chin was just pointing a gun in her general direction, getting ready to shoot at her.

Also, the new girl is kind of hot, which might be an irrelevant thing to notice when your former coworkers are trying to hunt you down to _kill_—all right, maybe not kill, but possibly arrest you and stuff, and it distantly occurs to Kono she might be having a panic attack.

She thinks back to the glimpses of Chin's face, rushing towards them down the motel hallway, weapon drawn, and bile rises in her throat. Dwight moans from the passenger seat and she bites down on her lip, reminds herself she's a cop, damn it, and _keep it together, Kono_. God.

**···················**

Steve is shouting at her to get out of the car, hands where he can see them, like she's some sort of criminal, but she _has_ been driving around with a dead body in the front seat in some parody of Weekend at Bernie's so she doesn't really have the moral high ground here.

She steps out, carefully, because who knows, New Girl might be trigger happy. She hears Danny's voice from somewhere behind her, confirming the other guy is dead, and Steve immediately lowers his weapon and steps closer, running his eyes over her frantically.

"You okay?" He asks in a strained voice, wavering in place like he's barely stopping himself from moving closer.

"Yeah." She whispers, face burning in abject humiliation as she tries to avoid Chin's gaze. Chin. Who doesn't know anything still and god even knows what he must be thinking of her now.

"We still have to take you in." Steve says tensely, his mouth a grim line, voice too low for anyone else to hear. She looks at him steadily, gives a small nod.

"I know."

He steps closer, turns her to face the car as he pats her down for weapons, then closes a hand around her wrist, pulling her to his side and dragging her to his car roughly while she tries not to stumble, because how humiliating would that be. She sees the new girl from the corner of her eye, her hand by her side, uselessly clutching a pair of handcuffs, and then Steve is opening a door and shoving her into the back seat, telling her to stay there and try not to fucking get herself into any more trouble in the time it takes him to drive them back to HQ.

**···················**


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I don't own anything; all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s).

**···················**

Chin is standing out of her line of sight, leaning against the door to Steve's office, while Steve looms in front of her, arms crossed in front of his chest in a universally recognizable signal of "you better not fuck with me today or else". They've been standing there in silence for a good fifteen minutes when Steve decides to speak.

"Two people are dead." He starts in a dangerous voice. "Two people, Kono." He leans forward expectantly, demonstrating his complete disregard of the concept of personal space. If he stands so close to all the suspects, it's no wonder they get so many confessions; she can see how this can get seriously distracting. Steve slams his hand on the desk, startling her out of what, in retrospect, might have been an inappropriate train of thought. "You ready to tell me what the fuck is going on?"

Kono doesn't flinch, doesn't look away. She keeps her face blank, or tries to, and waits, because someone will come soon, get her out of this mess. Probably.

"I want to help you, Kono." Steve is saying earnestly. "I really want to help you. But you need to talk to me, okay? _Talk to me_ so I can make this go away."

Kono licks her dry lips, hesitates. Remembers Fryer's face as he warned her to keep her fucking mouth shut.

"I can't."

"You—listen to me, you are neck deep in this. These people are dangerous, okay? They had someone murdered, and they won't hesitate to kill again. You need to tell me what you know, and you need to do it now."

"I can't." She says again, desperate, pleading with her eyes for him to understand. Steve turns away abruptly, kicking the spare chair so hard it skids across the floor, slams into the file cabinet with a bang, knocking over a couple of framed pictures. She thinks one of them is from last Christmas, the team standing in front of Danny's Christmas tree, smiling widely, just a few days after the break in at the forfeiture locker.

Steve whirls around so he's in her face again. "How can I help you if you won't talk to me, Kono?" He snaps at her, and his anger is a tangible thing, filling out the space between them until it feels like someone could drown in it. Probably Kono, if Steve has anything to say about it.

"Steve." Chin admonishes tensely, and Kono remembers he's in the room too. Steve may have forgotten about it as well, and now he draws back hastily, clenching his hands into fists, then unclenching them again. He's almost shaking with emotion, and maybe it's a good thing Chin is here because Steve looks like some wild animal itching to attack her—although not necessarily in a bad way.

Okay, so, she's obviously more shaken up than she thought if she's started with the jungle metaphors. She makes a mental note to spend less time with Danny, and then has to choke back a hysterical sob when she realizes she hasn't spoken to Danny in weeks. Her fault, all her fault, and god, if she gets out of this she promises to do all of Danny's paperwork for a month, no you know what? Screw that, _two_ months, and maybe buy him dinner or something. She'd throw in more free surfing lessons but she's not sure Danny enjoys them all that much to begin with.

Chin is standing in front of her now, leaning down so they're on eye level, and he's looking at her like he always has, like he loves her and trusts her, like he'll believe anything she tells him, no matter what, always, _ohana_. And then he starts talking and he tells her that, all those things she already knew but couldn't help but doubt because—because she's scared and she's been pushing him away. But this is Chin, and of course, of course, his faith in people is unshakable. Kono is ashamed to have ever thought Chin would turn his back on her, even for a second.

There's movement out of the corner of her eye, and she sees Fryer walk in, heading for Steve's office and she should be nervous and apprehensive but the only emotion she can drum up is relief because finally, now that Fryer is here she has no doubt that Steve can glare, shout, intimidate and outright coerce him into telling him the truth.

And maybe then she can finally stop pretending.

**···················**

She doesn't want to drive to the hospital, and the EMTs on the scene confirm it's just a graze anyway so she manages to convince Steve to drive her home instead. The _Steve driving her_ part seems to be non-negotiable.

He parks the jeep in her driveway, climbs her front steps and reaches in his pocket to pull out his key chain, and she's so glad they're not bothering to pretend he doesn't have his own keys anymore, because that could get annoying, like, real fast. He opens the door for her, all gentlemanlike, and Kono is too tired to be snarky so she lets it go without comment this time. Steve is always doing crap like that anyway, opening doors and guiding her with a hand on her back, and being so overwhelmingly considerate he's given her unrealistic expectations about men in general.

What a jerk.

Steve heads straight for her bedroom, unearths a gym bag from somewhere in her closet (god only knows why he knew where that was) and starts throwing some clothes inside. Then he hands her the bag and points her towards the bathroom.

"Grab what you need, you're staying at my place tonight." He orders simply, and Kono finds she doesn't have the energy to do more than raise an eyebrow. She gathers some things from the bathroom, throws him a halfhearted glare he seems to ignore.

"I don't need a babysitter." She snipes resentfully, even as he gently shuffles her down the front steps towards his car again. Steve holds the passenger door open for her to climb in, not saying a word, then leans forward and—he's buckling her seatbelt, like she's four and doesn't know how to do it herself.

Kono just stares at him incredulously, because, really? Really? He thinks she won't kick his condescending ass back to next week just because she's had a bad day?

Well, okay. Maybe she won't. She settles for glaring at him silently as he walks over to the driver's side and gets in, then resolves not to talk to him the rest of the way, just out of spite. Hey, if he's going to treat her like a four year old, she might as well act like one.

What's that? Her logic is flawed? Pshaw.

**···················**

Steve is staring at her. He is in fact staring at her in a manner so disruptive that Kono can tell, even though her eyes are closed and she's tugged the sheet over her head in a vain attempt to catch a few more minutes of sleep. She realizes now this was a pipe dream, because sleeping in is very likely outlawed in the McGarrett household. Along with anything longer than three minute showers, as she has recently discovered. She blinks, shifting on the couch, squints unattractively against the sunlight that's peaking in through the blinds and turns to see Steve sitting on the coffee table, staring rather rudely.

"What is this, Twilight?" Is all she can manage, because obviously her brain can't fully function unless she's had her morning cup of coffee so she's currently running low on snark. Sometimes it even takes two cups. Those days she lets Chin drive and he generously pretends not to notice she's tapping out the chorus to every AC/DC song she knows on the dashboard, all jittery and shit. And then there are the days where she starts singing. But better not talk about that.

"I'm sorry, what?" Steve sounds confused. That's okay, Steve. It was a stupid reference anyway.

"Nothing." She says hurriedly. "What's so fascinating about the vaguely recognizable shape of my head under the covers?"

"I was admiring my sheets." Steve deadpans, completely straight faced.

"Let me guess." She tries in amusement. "Egyptian cotton?"

"Probably not." Steve admits, unconcerned. "Still very nice sheets though." He adds distractedly. She gives him a small smile, sitting up on the couch. The sheet falls to her waist and Steve's gaze wanders, taking in her thin tank top and lingering on the bandage on her arm.

"You okay?" He asks, suddenly serious.

"Yeah." Her voice is quiet as she stares at him apprehensively, trying to read his mood. He looks like he wants to say something, then thinks better of it.

"Come on. Let's make you some breakfast." He mumbles, getting up and heading to the kitchen.

"Pancakes?" Kono perks up considerably, kicking off the sheet and hurrying after him excitedly at the promise of food.

"No." He says sternly, not looking back at her.

"Oh come on, boss. You make killer pancakes." She pleads, resorting to flattery.

"No." He repeats, reaching for some cereal. The boring, healthy stuff that no one but Steve would eat willingly.

"I got shot yesterday. I think I'm entitled to some pancakes."

He turns, looks at her blankly and okay, message received. Too soon to joke about it, apparently. Then Steve sighs, knocking his head against the cabinet door in frustration.

"Fine." He bites out, defeated. Kono tries not to look too smug.

"But I hope you know at this rate you'll never make it to thirty." And Steve the health nut is back. It's kind of amusing how much time he spends worrying about what she eats, honestly.

"Who says I want to make it to thirty if I have to give up pancakes?" Kono asks in a flippant tone. Steve just shakes his head at her, but the sad thing is—she was being serious.

**···················**

After breakfast, during which Kono consumes an off-putting amount of blueberry pancakes under Steve's disapproving glare, Steve decrees they both have the day off. She goes along with it, hoping the break will help with his mood. He seems uncharacteristically somber, even by McGarrett standards for gloominess.

They take his dad's car out for a drive with a plan of stopping by Kamekona's for a shrimp flavored something or other; Kono has been sort of helping out with the repairs, but there's still a forty percent chance the car will start falling apart at the seams any second now. When she mentions this to Steve he waves her off, mumbles something about all antique cars being temperamental, so she just shrugs and gets in.

Not fifteen minutes later, the engine starts splattering then dies, leaving them stranded on a rarely frequented road behind the cover of some palm trees. Kono is too nice to say I told you so, but can't quite manage to stifle a laugh. Steve ignores her and frowns harder.

She kicks off her flip flops, putting her bare feet up on the dashboard and settling in for a wait. It's not quite the middle of nowhere but it's close, so even in the unlikely event that someone could persuade her to get out and push, there's no place for them to go, really. Steve calls a tow truck, reluctantly informing her it will get there in an hour or two. They sit in silence for a while, the radio—as luck would have it—not being one of the things they've gotten around to fixing just yet.

Kono spends some time examining her cheerfully colored toe nails, absently scratching the skin around the bandage on her arm, and then Steve starts talking.

"You could have told me." His voice is so quiet she almost doesn't catch it. She turns to look at him, puzzled. His face is serious, mouth drawn in a tight line.

"Told you what?" She asks lightly, but she has a sinking feeling she already knows what he's talking about.

"You could have told me what was going on with you. I thought—" He looks at her, shakes his head. "I thought you knew you could trust me."

She stares at him, trying to think of something to say. "It wasn't about trust. I couldn't tell _anyone_. You know that."

"I'm not just _anyone_." He hisses, suddenly angry. "I'm not just your boss, or a team mate, or a friend. I thought you knew that. I thought we both understood—"

"I _know_ that." She interrupts hurriedly. "I do. I'm sorry if I—if I made you think otherwise."

"You didn't talk to me for weeks." He accuses, as if he can't let it go just yet.

"I was scared, okay?" She cries, defensive. "I was confused, and I thought I was protecting you! It wasn't personal, I had to—"

"It felt pretty damn personal to me, Kono!" He says fiercely. "And you just...shut me out, like it was nothing. Like it was easy for you."

"You think it was easy? You think pretending to be that person was easy for me? You think it wasn't hard to trust that Fryer cared enough not to get me killed?"

"You didn't have to do it, Kono. If you had just come to me, I could have—"

"What? What could you have done, Steve? You were what, a week out of jail by the time of my hearing?"

"I could have come clean, told them I was the one who took the money."

"Wow. That's brilliant." She says in a tone that clearly suggests otherwise. "I wonder why I didn't think of that. I mean, that would have solved everything."

Steve brings a hand to his temples, clenches his jaw and Kono looks away, trying to will herself out of this conversation.

"I know you're brave, Kono." Steve's voice is quiet again, composed. "I love how brave you are. I know you think staying away was the right thing to do. But I can't understand how you did it." His hand brushes against her cheek and she turns back to him, startled. "I couldn't stay away from you if I tried."

Kono doesn't really know what to say to that but then he's kissing her and she doesn't have to say anything at all.

**···················**


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I don't own anything; all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s).

**···················**

Their mouths press hotly together, Steve's hand tangling in her hair as he drags her out of the passenger seat and pulls her hard against him. She gasps into his mouth in surprise, and now she's straddling his lap, her hands going around his neck. It's cramped and the steering wheel is digging into her back and he can't be serious about this, they're in the middle of the street for god's sake. Granted, a very deserted one, but still. And then his hands slip under her top, her arms lifting to help him pull it off her and it seems she may have overestimated his sense of decorum—as well as her own because, umm, hello? Unless she's somehow misreading this (she isn't), she's about to have sex in a semi-public place in the middle of the day.

Kono decides she hates this stupid car; if they had a working A/C they could roll up the windows, at least give themselves the illusion of privacy, but no. Windows down. Just her luck.

Oh, well. If anyone drives by she'll just wave.

Steve's kissing his way down her neck, hastily undoing her jean shorts, and she feels obligated to at least acknowledge what a stupid idea this is. Sex in the car, that is. Not sex with Steve. Sex with Steve is a great idea. It might be the best idea she's had in the last decade.

"Maybe we should—" She starts, but Steve chooses this time to drag his teeth teasingly over a sensitive spot on her neck and she falters, her breath catching and—what was she talking about again?

Steve's managed to unbutton her shorts, and she helps him get them off, her elbow knocking into the steering wheel in the process and okay, now she remembers.

"Maybe we should move to the back seat?" She suggests, in a voice that's entirely too breathless for dignity. Steve laughs, reaching up to kiss her messily.

"The back seat is worse, trust me." He says, and she doesn't really want to think about how he knows that. "This is going to work, don't worry." He smirks up at her cockily, and she rolls her eyes at him because honestly. The things he says sometimes.

He wraps one arm around her waist to pull her closer, until she's pressed against him, fingers splaying on her hip possessively as she tries to unbutton his cargo pants.

"You'll just have to do all the work." He breathes against her, the corners of his mouth curling up as if he's really enjoying the thought of her in charge. Looks like his control issues don't necessarily extend to the bedroom. Or the front seat of his car, apparently. "Think you can manage?"

He doesn't wait for an answer, just tugs her hips down sharply, slamming into her and Kono swears, hands gripping the back of the seat on either side of his head, her fingers digging into the soft leather. "Fuck, Steve—"

"Move." He commands hoarsely, hands on her hips to help her set a pace, and okay, this is clearly something they're going to have to work on because she might be on top but somehow he's still ordering her about. Fucking SEAL training.

She moves, slowly, just to piss him off, and it works; his fingers dig into the skin of her hips, urging her into a faster pace, until her thighs start to burn and she's so wound up she could scream but she doesn't because the windows are down and anyone could hear and—fuck fuck fuck. Fuck.

She's pretty sure she _did_ scream after all. She opens her eyes, and Steve is panting, not looking smug at all, so maybe she just imagined—

"I'm pretty sure I'm deaf from that ear now."

Yeah. Steve likes to think he's funny sometimes.

He's not.

"Shut up."

**···················**

They only just manage to straighten their clothes (or get back into them, in Kono's case) before the tow truck arrives. They're both flushed and sweaty and she looks disheveled and—pretty much like she's been doing exactly what she's been doing for the last half hour, which is: fucking Steve in the front seat of his dad's car. So. Not awkward at all, really.

She checks her bandage discreetly; she'd forgotten about it with all the adrenaline, but now her arm is starting to hurt from the exertion. The wound seems fine, and she's relieved she didn't pull a stitch or anything, because she wouldn't want to explain how that happened to a doctor. Or anyone. Ever.

The guy trying to jump start the car gives her another sideways glance and she feels color rush to her cheeks. She never thought she'd be agreeing with Danny on anything but maybe he has a point. _"You've been hanging out with McGarrett too long."_

She looks at Steve again, arms crossed in front of his chest, frowning as he says something to the tow truck guy and, you know what? Steve is—Steve is _awesome_ and this was totally fucking worth it, her current mild embarrassment notwithstanding.

**···················**

Steve's bed is nice. Thrown open sheets, which was kind of surprising; she'd expected them to be tucked in neatly, military background and all. They haven't explicitly discussed it or anything, but she suspects Steve might have a mild case of OCD.

She's tangled up in the sheets, Steve kissing an idle trail down her back while Kono tries to catch her breath. She catches a glimpse of his alarm clock, remembers they have to work tomorrow.

"You know I have to go home sometime, right?"

Steve moves up, bites her earlobe teasingly. "I thought you could stay a couple of days." He says in a gruff voice. She turns her head to look at him, raising an eyebrow.

"What?" He defends. "You're still recovering. Someone should be with you, just in case."

"Just in case what?" She wonders aloud. "Just in case I want to open a jar of peanut butter that's sealed too tight?"

"Sure." He agrees smoothly, ignoring her attempts at sarcasm. "And to make sure you don't overexert yourself." He says very seriously, then reaches over to touch the tip of her nose. She slaps his hand away irritably, scowling up at him when he starts laughing.

"You suck." She informs him plainly. "And if you're worried about me overexerting myself, you sure have a fun way of showing your concern, Mr. Let's stay in bed all day and have sex in increasingly more complicated positions."

"Oh, I'm sorry." Steve smirks widely, not sorry at all. What a jerk. "Did I tire you out, baby?"

Kono just glares at him. "It's a wonder you can get through doors with your overinflated ego."

Steve is smiling like she's oh so funny, leans down to kiss her. She relents, kissing him back because she's only human, all right? And she's not completely immune to his –not inconsiderable-charm.

"You love me anyway." He declares confidently between kisses. She furrows her brow at his choice of words, but then he tugs the sheet away from her and suddenly she's too distracted to care.

**···················**

"You are my favorite person on the entire fucking planet, Kalakaua." Danny declares ardently, sinking into a chair next to her. He's holding a Styrofoam cup of coffee with both hands like it's a sacred object meant to be worshipped in altars and he's scared if he averts his eyes or loosen his grip it might disappear from existence entirely. It's from the pot she made this morning when she got in, spacing out and sleep deprived after Steve's rather enthusiastic itinerary for their day off.

"Seriously, it's like my quality of life decreases exponentially without you around." Danny is insisting. "No good coffee means I'm hardly awake most mornings, and then I'm always grumpier, thus more likely to snap at my idiotic partner. And then Steve is moodier, which just multiplies his likelihood to do something stupid, like I don't know, walk into a burning building without back up getting me shot in the process."

He tilts his head, smiles at her mischievously. "Not to mention…" He continues, dragging out the words, "…without you here there's no one pretty to look at when I'm avoiding looking at my paperwork."

"Really? I thought that's what the new girl was here for." Kono deadpans, smirking.

Danny guffaws, almost spills coffee on his shirt. "Well," he absently pats down an imaginary tie, "I'm more into brunettes personally. So I don't know what to tell you."

"Is that right?" Kono smiles widely, very entertained. "Well, Steve is very pretty. And your type, apparently."

"Okay now, that was uncalled for." He whines. "That is just…mean spirited and petty and—"

"Well, I can't help but be intimidated by your epic bromance." She snarks, biting on her lip to keep a straight face as Danny turns to gape at her.

"Did you just—did you seriously use the word bromance in conversation? What is the matter with you?" He cries indignantly, as if he considers this a personal affront.

Kono shrugs. "Well, I had a lot of time on my hands recently. I may have spent some of it cyber stalking Supernatural fan sites."

"And you know, I'll be sure to tell Steve you think he's pretty." Danny continues, ignoring her.

"Pretty sure he already knows, brah."

"_Bromance."_ Danny scoffs, mostly to himself. "What is _wrong_ with you?"

**···················**

She can tell from the moment she wakes up it's going to be one of those days she spends wishing she'd gone with her gut and stayed in bed. Under the covers, cellphones off, no trips to the grocery store, hardcore slothfulness: these are the things this day calls for. None of them are things Kono can actually do. Seriously, the last time her phone was off was in 2008. She still hasn't gone through all her voicemail from that day.

She sleeps through her alarm clock, of course, which is Steve's fault for keeping her up last night, and has to rush through a shower. She doesn't time it, but it couldn't have been more than three minutes; Steve would be proud. She hurries back to the bedroom to see him sprawled on his back across the bed, looking like some Greek deity, then promptly trips over the armchair, barely managing to stay upright. She swears loudly and Steve stirs, the sheet slipping further down his hips and—_clothes_, she needs clothes, and shoes, and…

"Where's the fire?" Steve mumbles sleepily. She pulls on her shorts, trying not to look at him too much and focusing on searching for her missing top.

"I'm running late." She explains absently, kneeling to look under the bed.

"Late for what?"

Nothing behind the armchair, and if she has to look in the tangled bed sheets she might as well call and cancel because let's face it; if she goes near the bed she's not leaving for another hour, at least.

"I'm meeting some friends." She heads to Steve's closet, determinedly ruffles through his shirts. Everything's color coordinated, of course: blue, dark blue, royal blue, greenish blue, and—oh, that's his favorite. She hesitates for a moment then shrugs, takes it down from the hanger and tries it on.

"Anyone I know?"

"What? No." She goes to the mirror, rolls up the shirt's short sleeves and steps back to consider it. Eh. It will work, probably. Not really her style so her friends might notice, but whatever. "I'm stealing your shirt, by the way." She announces, not even pretending to ask for permission, because Steve's the one who keeps suggesting they have these sleep overs at his place and she doesn't have any clothes here. She chances a glance behind her and Steve is sitting up on the bed, frowning. He better not be frowning about the shirt.

"You're wearing shorts under that, right?" He asks, looking at the hemline doubtfully.

Kono turns around slowly, gives him a withering glare. "…Yes."

Steve looks startled then seems to realize how that sounded and starts backpedaling immediately.

"Not that that's—I mean, you look great. Hot." Kono just keeps staring at him, distinctly unimpressed. "And cute. Did I mention cute? Cute as a button. The cutest girl in Oahu by far."

And this is what happens when Steve tries to have a conversation with someone on four hours of sleep. She stares as he rubs his face tiredly, looking like he genuinely regrets opening his mouth.

"Okay then." Kono says charitably, just to stop him from embarrassing himself any further. "I'll be going now."

"Right." Steve nods, then nods again. Kono muses he could very well hurt himself trying to form a sentence right now.

"I'll be back later. You can take me out to dinner." She suggests helpfully, because she's nice like that.

"Sure." Steve agrees immediately, looking sort of relieved—probably about the fact that she doesn't mock him relentlessly whenever he acts like a complete dork.

"Nothing fancy." She warns as an afterthought, grabbing her bag and cellphone from the side table. She takes a few steps then comes to a halt, hesitating in the doorway and—it kind of feels like she should say something, maybe. She looks back at Steve to find him staring at her expectantly, then promptly panics and gives an awkward wave, walking out.

She barrels down the stairs, lets out a breath when she closes the front door behind her then leans back against it, hanging her head down dejectedly.

God.

She is such fucking idiot. She _waved_. She actually _waved_ at him. Who the fuck even does that? What the fuck is wrong with her brain today?

Kono takes a deep breath, tries to comfort herself with the thought that it could have been worse; it really could have. Waving isn't even all that bad, considering her very first impulse was to tell him she loves him. Just like that, perfectly casual, _"Ok, see you later, love you, bye now",_ like she's said it a thousand times before, only she hasn't—and neither has he.

Now _that_? That would have been awkward.

**···················**


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I don't own anything; all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s).

A/N: Thanks to everyone for reading and especially to the people who take the time to review, you guys are awesome. There's just a couple of chapters left, so enjoy!

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She meets with a few friends from the Academy in a nondescript diner that is close enough to everyone's house to make it convenient. The guys share stories of their recent cases that get more implausible by the minute, talking over each other loudly while the girls nod and giggle in regular intervals, discreetly carrying on a conversation amongst themselves. When Kali asks about the dress shirt, Kono shrugs and tells her it's laundry day.

"Um, Kono?" She hears a hesitant voice from her right. Everyone quiets down, except Noah who is in the middle of a vivid narration of a drug bust that seems to have played out remarkably like an old episode of CSI: Miami. The story has gotten so elaborate by this point that he's using the salt and napkin holder as a patrol car and a warehouse, respectfully. Kono fears the next step is a PowerPoint presentation.

Kono turns a bit to find Lori standing by their booth, holding a take-out bag and wearing a polite smile.

"Oh, Lori, hi!" Kono manages when she gets over that split second feeling of dread one gets when one runs into one's old classmates on a day when one predictably fails to wear any concealer. "Everyone, this is Lori." She gestures as her friends all nod politely, Noah finally trailing off and putting down the salt and pepper stand. She gives Lori everyone's names, which seems pretty pointless since there's six people here and she's seventy five percent sure Lori will neither remember nor care, but Kono wasn't raised by wolves, so…

"It's nice to meet you." Lori offers cheerfully, shifting her weight in apparent awkwardness.

"So, do you live close by?" Kono asks, just to break the silence.

"Um, yeah. Yes." Lori confirms, nodding. "I stop by for breakfast sometimes." She adds, holding up her takeout bag as proof.

"Do you have somewhere to be, or…do you want to sit down?" Kono tries, looking around the booth for confirmation. Her friends nod or shrug or smile.

"Yeah, you should join us!" Alana pipes in, voice friendlier than usual and Kono gives her a sideways glance that eloquently conveys: what the fuck.

"Oh no, I have to—I can't. But it was great running into you, really. You look great, by the way." She compliments, then furrows her brow pensively. "Is that a new shirt? It looks kind of familiar."

"Oh, yeah. I mean, no, it's not new." Kono shakes her head emphatically, as if that will make her delivery more credible. Honestly. And she calls herself a police officer.

"Oh, you know, I think Steve has one just like this." Lori continues innocently, tugging a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. Kono suspects Lori would look better as a brunette actually, but no one really asked for her opinion so she'll just shut up about it.

"Really? I never noticed." She lies with what she likes to imagine is great poise, sneaking a glance at Kali who is staring at her with a raised eyebrow. In fact, the whole table is listening in to this conversation intently.

"Anyway, I have to run." Lori announces, sounding apologetic. "It was great meeting everyone. Kono, I'll see you at work?"

They say their goodbyes, and Kono turns to find five people staring at her expectantly. She just stares back, shrugging.

"That's not actually your shirt, is it?" Adam asks shrewdly with the air of someone who already knows the answer.

"Now that is what I call benefits." Kali declares with conviction. "HPD doesn't even give us full dental." She adds, looking disgusted with her job again. Kali is always complaining about something or other though, so no one pays her any attention.

"Never mind that." Alana cuts in impatiently. "More importantly: is that girl single, and will she date me?"

Kono looks at Alana like she's crazy. "I thought you only date brunettes." She accuses, kind of offended in behalf of brunettes everywhere.

"I'm making an exception." Alana says decisively, still dazedly staring in the direction Lori walked off in. "Can you give me her number?"

**···················**

Her phone is ringing, that generic preprogrammed ring tone she can't be bothered to change getting annoyingly louder by the second. She groans in protest, blindly reaching to the side table and answering before the sound can get more obnoxious.

"Yeah?"

"Hey, cuz." Chin greets easily. "Sorry to wake you. Can I talk to Steve?"

Kono scrunches up her forehead, still disoriented. The bed next to her is empty and she thinks she can hear the shower running, so Steve's already awake but probably can't come to the phone right now.

Wait. Why would Chin—

"I'm sorry, what?" She sits up, voice panicky, looking around as if to locate the nearest fire escape. Because fleeing seems like a very valid option when it comes to avoiding this particular discussion, at least when she's half asleep.

"Steve? Steve McGarrett? Navy SEAL, tall guy, tattoos? Any of this ringing any bells?"

"Um…" She hesitates, trying to come up with something that will buy her some time to figure out what the hell is going on, when she suddenly spots her cell phone lying untouched on the side table, next to her badge.

Well, shit.

Her face heats up in embarrassment and she considers crawling back under the covers and staying there for a decade, at least.

"I answered Steve's phone, didn't I?" She asks resignedly. She doesn't even need to see Chin to know that he's smirking.

"You did." Her cousin confirms with composure and Kono closes her eyes, completely mortified. There's an uncomfortable pause during which she contemplates coming up with some reason for answering Steve's phone at five in the morning when she'd obviously been sleeping, then decides it's not worth the trouble.

"Um, he's…He can't come to the phone right now. Can I give him a message?" She asks in an exceedingly polite tone, like she's Steve's secretary or something and takes messages for him all the time. When in doubt, be polite; that's what her mother always says. Apparently Kono has been so effectively indoctrinated she can even recall her mother's _priceless _advice under pressure.

Chin laughs. "Yeah, just have him call me as soon as possible. Some lab results came in."

"Okay then." Kono chirps with all the fake cheer of a person who works in customer service. "Thank you for calling." She hears Chin laugh at her then hangs up, falling back on the bed with a groan.

"That went well." She announces to the ceiling, lacking any conviction.

**···················**

They're driving to the morgue in silence, Kono tapping the stirring wheel in undisguised impatience. Chin clears his throat every time she even considers getting close to the speed limit and when an old lady in a minivan whizzes past them like she's driving a race car Kono makes a choked sound of protest at the general unfairness of life. And stuff.

"Aunt Kaila called." Her cousin announces suddenly, as if Chin talking to her mother is somehow unusual. Embarrassing, sure, but not terribly surprising—they probably gossip about Kono and whether she's eating right. Or at all. Maybe analyse her sleep patterns on a bad week. Who knows?

"Oh-kay..." She furrows her brow in confusion.

"She asked if you were bringing anyone to Leia's wedding."

Oh right. There is that.

"That's like, next week right?"

Chin nods in confirmation and Kono tries to understand why her mother's persistent attempts to meddle in her love life are still considered newsworthy.

"Well, what did you tell her?"

"That she should call and ask you herself." Chin says patiently, although Kono thinks she detects some exasperation. Kono stays silent for a bit then licks her lips nervously.

"I'm not bringing anyone." She says finally, glancing at Chin to see he doesn't look that surprised. Disapproving maybe, but not surprised.

"Did you talk to Steve about it?" He presses with uncharacteristic lack of tact that makes Kono widen her eyes.

"No! Why would I—I'm not talking to Steve about it." She rambles, over-defensive. She thinks she hears her cousin sigh but—nah.

"I think Steve would probably like to go." Chin insists, spelling it out for her. Kono hesitates then looks over at him, trying not to be too awkward.

"Did he say something?" She asks in a soft voice.

"Oh, no. I'm not getting stuck in the middle of this." Her cousin scoffs, throwing up his hands.

"Well, you're the one who brought it up!" Kono exclaims in annoyance.

"At least tell Aunt Kaila you're dating someone. There are only so many ways I can avoid answering a direct question. The woman's married to a cop, for god's sake."

"Wow, who would have thought. Lieutenant Kelly; afraid of my mother."

"Oh, laugh it up, cuz." Chin smiles in smug superiority. "I'm going with Malia. No one is trying to set _me_ up on a pity date."

"WHAT?" She doesn't bother trying to disguise her horror, even though Chin will probably make fun of her for it.

"And that's what happens when you avoid calls from your mother." He intones seriously, looking for all the world like someone imparting great wisdom.

**···················**

She's partnered up with Lori today, which is kind of awkward in that they still haven't quite gotten to know each other that well yet. It's weird, Lori's been working with them for weeks, but Kono feels like she really doesn't know that much about her, except maybe that she almost got married once. It makes for a lot of uncomfortable silence. Like right now, for example, as they ride the elevator up to HQ after a trip to the lab. Lori must be aware of this too, because she tries to make some small talk.

"So, Charlie seems nice."

"Charlie Fong? Yeah, great guy." Kono confirms, happy they're not talking about the weather again, because yes, that_ did_ happen.

"He was very happy to see you." Lori remarks innocently. Or as innocently as possible when her job description is, basically, picking people apart to see what makes them tick.

"Yeah, we've known each other for a long time." Kono deflects as the doors open and she steps out hurriedly. The elevator, brah. A place where good conversation goes to die and nonexistent conversation becomes noticeably awkward.

"He was clearly interested." Lori keeps on, not getting the hint. "You should ask him out."

"Ask who out?" Danny jumps in, coming out of Steve's office to catch the end of the conversation, Steve following a couple of steps behind him.

"No one." Lori says immediately, looking a bit flustered.

"What did Charlie have for us?" Steve asks, walking up to the smart table where everyone comes to plot missions and gossip. It's like their version of a water cooler. Only infinitely more expensive. And probably not water resistant.

"Oh, Charlie? Is that who we're talking about?" Danny smirks, and clearly he's bored and trying to cause some mayhem because there's really no other reason to bring this up now. "Hey, Steve, listen to this. Lori thinks Kono should ask Charlie out." He declares gleefully, rubbing his hands together. "On a _date_."

Okay, clearly, this is part of Danny's daily let's piss off Steve routine.

Steve looks startled, then furrows his brow. "Charlie? Charlie Fong?"

"I was just saying" Lori explains, shooting Kono an apologetic glance, "Charlie is a nice guy, and he likes Kono—"

"Okay, this is ridiculous. I'm not going to date Charlie. Let's just drop this."

"That's harsh, Kalakaua. Give the guy a chance. Maybe he'll surprise you." Danny chips in, smiling widely. He's getting a real kick out of this, let me tell you, and Kono glares because Danny should know better. Danny, who was convinced she was dating Steve long before she actually was.

"Does anyone want to hear about the case?" She asks, turning to Steve in exasperation, hoping he can put a stop to this. Steve is still frowning though, hands in his pockets, staring at her intently and clenching his jaw. Danny gives him a sideways look, rolling his eyes when he notices his partner's aneurysm face.

"Or, you know, _don't_ date him. Whatever." Danny sighs, deciding he's taken it too far. "Maybe you should stop going by for a while, let him down easy. From now on, Steve and I will take the trips to the lab, okay? How's that?" He offers, like he's doing her a favor.

Kono glares at him mutely, because if he thinks he can tell her how to do her job he's got another thing coming, and then Steve is talking again, apparently recovered from the shock.

"Yeah, we can handle that from now on." He says, readily agreeing with Danny. "No need to set the guy up for failure, right?" He adds in what might be a teasing tone but the stiff set to his shoulders tells her he's being perfectly serious.

Kono can't think of anything to say in the face of all this overwhelming stupidity, so she gets back to the case.

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	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I don't own anything; all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s).

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"I don't get it." Lori says, sitting down on the edge of Danny's desk. Danny looks up from an ongoing game of solitaire (hey, there's not much to do when they're all sitting around waiting for the dental records to get an ID on their vic) and raises an inquisitive eyebrow.

"I mean, I've never really had any problems getting along with people before. Especially people I work with. But ever since I've been assigned to Five-0 it's like everything I say comes out wrong." She frowns prettily, and why she's telling _him_ this is anybody's guess.

"You're doing fine talking to me." Danny remarks, gesturing wide with his hands, as if to say, see? Because that's really all the reassurance he can provide at this juncture. Lori is okay, generally, except for those times when she decides to randomly offer up personal and potentially embarrassing information about herself for no discernible reason. Like she's doing right now.

"I mean, Chin is nice, but then he calls me _kid_ sometimes, which—he's, what, ten years older than me? It feels like his way of keeping a distance. Kono is always cautious, and I was assigned here at about the time she lost her badge, so I guess I can see where she's coming from. And Steve is just—I don't get him. It's like he doesn't even know I'm there most of the time."

Danny is kind of impressed she managed to say all that in one breath. "Okay." He says in a voice that's tinged with amusement. "And you're telling me this because…?"

Lori tilts her head, widens her eyes at him. "Well, Steve's your partner…" She says hopefully, letting him fill in the blanks. As if Steve's some video game and all she needs to figure him out is the cheat codes. Danny sighs.

"Look, Lori. Steve is a simple guy. He likes guns, tackling people, sports that involve a high mortality rate, and Kono. He doesn't appreciate dishonesty, or people confusing the army with the navy, or the necessity of adhering to proper police procedure. He also doesn't appreciate people flirting with him at work, or anytime really, since he's in a committed relationship. So, you know, if he treats you like you're not there sometimes, that's probably why." Danny twists his mouth in some semblance of a smile, hoping to take the sting off his words.

Lori's eyes get even wider, mouth parting in surprise, and even that expression seems rehearsed, like she's spent hours in front of a mirror figuring out the most flattering angles for it. It's mildly irritating to Danny; Rachel was never like that. Say what you will about his ex-wife (and he certainly has), but Rachel could be devastatingly beautiful without even knowing it—that was part of the appeal. But Lori is nothing like Rachel, and there's nothing about her looks that's accidental.

"You mean…Kono?" She asks, because apparently that made an impression.

"Yep." Danny confirms cheerfully, leaning back in his office chair. His very comfortable, high tech, leather office chair. You know something's not going right when your office furniture is better than your home furniture. "Is that so surprising?" He adds, because he's a jerk who likes putting people on the spot.

Lori gets up from his desk at this, shoving her hands in her jeans' pockets and looking distinctly uncomfortable. "I just didn't pick up on it." She admits pensively.

"That's because they're both consummate professionals." Danny says pointedly and Lori frowns uncertainly at the implied dig. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm sort of in the middle of something here." He concludes with a wave, going back to his game of solitaire and effectively dismissing her.

**···················**

Steve has not driven off a cliff yet, but it's still a twenty minute drive to the office so anything is possible.

"I mean, two kids? In this economy? No thanks. I'd probably have to get a second job at Kamekona's, spend my weekends serving shrimp ice cream to tourists who don't know any better. And then I'd be working so many hours I'd never be able to see my kids, anyway, I'd be miserable. I'm telling you, I dodged a bullet with this one."

His partner is a good twelve minutes into this rant, which Steve regrettably instigated when he asked Danny how he'd been handling things with Rachel. He really should know better by now: every conversation in this car will inevitably turn unpleasant one way or another.

"I want three." Steve blurts out, because if he doesn't do something to stop this there's a good chance his ears will start bleeding soon.

"Three bullets? Well, I have long suspected you have a death wish, but that is weirdly specific, even for you."

"Three kids." Steve clarifies, rolling his eyes.

"You want…three kids? Okay, wait a second, it is news to me that you want kids _at all_." Danny scrunches up his face like he's in pain. "Do you even _like_ kids?"

"I like Gracie." Steve points out with a quick glance at his partner. The _so there_ is implied.

"Okay, that is not a convincing argument, my friend. Grace is in every way exceptional, but she is not the rule. Trust me, as someone who has been to my fair share of children's parties—most children are just snotty, loud mouthed terrors that crave sugar like vampires crave blood. And like vampires they will suck your life out of you until you're nothing but a husk of your former self."

Steve doesn't say anything for a moment, then—

"Danny. Do _you_ even like kids?"

Danny predictably pretends not to hear this.

"And what does _Kono_ have to say about this brilliant plan of yours to repopulate the earth with a race of little super SEALS, huh?"

"Three kids, Danny. _Three_. How you get from that to repopulating the planet is beyond me." But Danny is too far gone by now, the almost demented gleam in his eyes telling Steve he's in for another twelve minute rant, at least.

Oh, look. There's a palm tree. Maybe he should just crash the car into it and be done with this. Only with his luck he'll survive and then he'll have to share a hospital room with Danny who will probably never stop complaining about Steve crashing his car into a palm tree, of all things.

He drives past the tree, only mildly regretful; he really shouldn't try to give Danny any more reasons for hating palm trees.

**···················**

Steve is frowning down at the laptop, the decidedly neutral expression he usually wears tinged with obvious disapproval. This case is getting to all of them—two somewhat suspicious suicides of teens only a couple of weeks apart from each other, both kids attending a pretentious private school. They're at the second victims' house, Kono going through the girl's computer history and having just stumbled across a nasty website that's supposed to be the school newspaper.

Well, if this is journalism it's certainly leaning towards the tabloid side of things, Kono thinks as she scrolls through pictures that vary from embarrassing to downright horrifying. She mumbles something unflattering about private education under her breath, squinting at a vaguely disturbing entry about one of the teachers when Steve speaks up.

"Yeah, our kids are going to public school."

At first Kono's not quite sure she's heard him right, or that he's actually talking to her, really—this is the first she's hearing about this and for all she knows Steve's planning on marrying Danny, adopting cute little Asian babies and sending them to public school. Although—admittedly—that seems a bit farfetched.

The stunned silence stretches out uncomfortably and Kono leans back in her chair to see Steve still focused on the laptop screen, reading something over her shoulder, seemingly oblivious to the prevailing awkwardness. Typical.

"_Our kids?"_ Kono manages eventually in a voice that's too high pitched to be normal. Because really. In this hypothetical universe where Kono Kalakaua and Steve McGarrett have decided to procreate, they have more than one kid?

"As in, plural?" She asks again, just to clarify. "How many hypothetical kids are we talking about here?"

Steve turns to her, looking startled, and then it seems realization sinks in and okay, _now_ he looks like he remembers they're at work, where they're supposed to be acting über professional, and here he is, announcing his plans about their highly hypothetical future children together to the room. Or maybe he just remembered he's never actually talked to her about this and all of a sudden she finds out he's picking out schools and setting up college funds.

Kono keeps looking at Steve who keeps looking at her and they will just sit here staring at each other if someone doesn't say something soon. Please, please, please let someone say something soon.

"Steve's thinking three, actually." Danny contributes helpfully and Kono makes a note to be more specific with her wishes in the future. Steve breaks the little stare down they have going on to shoot his partner a scathing glare then turns back to her, his expression apologetic.

"Or two." Steve hurries to assure her. Because that's very comforting. "Two is fine."

Kono's blank look doesn't change, Steve appearing to grow more uncomfortable by the second.

"Or, you know, one." He continues uncertainly, watching her closely for a reaction. "One kid is plenty." Kono is sure her face is the very definition of _what the fuck_ right now and Steve is still talking. Why is he still talking? "Takes up a lot of time and I mean, we're both busy people and it's more of a five year plan anyway—"

"Steve." Kono cuts him off warningly and he must have _some_ self-preservation instinct because he shuts up.

"Right." He shifts his weight, crossing his arms, clearly ill at ease. "So, you think this has something to do with the case?" He asks, swiftly changing the subject, nodding towards the laptop screen and suddenly deciding to avoid all eye contact. Yeah. Very smooth, Steve.

Kono hesitates and when a glance behind her confirms that Danny and everyone else in the room (Lori, Chin, random HPD people who happen to be within hearing distance) are following the conversation with interest, she decides she'd better just write this off as Steve being weird again.

"Could be." She shrugs. "Some of this stuff is pretty nasty. Maybe we can find something on our victim?"

"Yeah, okay, let's try that." Steve agrees readily, one of his hands falling to squeeze her shoulder lightly before he steps away to talk to an officer and pretend the last five minutes never happened.

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	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I don't own anything; all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s).

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Kono buys her cousin a ludicrously expensive wedding gift and decides to skip the wedding, which—okay, might make her a horrible person, but at least her mother doesn't get the chance to set her up with some poor guy who was bound to get beat up when Steve ended up hearing about it. So, if you _think_ about it, she's being altruistic here. Really.

She stops by Steve's place instead, almost rings the doorbell before remembering her key. That's right; a key. Steve must have slipped it on her key chain when she wasn't looking because it was just there one day all of a sudden, one extra key, perfectly unassuming, and Kono might not be big on fits of girlish squealing but—let's just say that this time she came close.

She finds Steve in the living room, watching a football game with Danny, who's stretched out on the couch like he owns it. Possession is nine tenths of the law, after all, and Danny's been pretty much living on that couch since what will probably go down in history as The Black Mold Incident of 2011.

She grabs herself a beer and settles on the arm rest of Steve's chair. It's either that or cuddling with Danny which—thanks, but no thanks.

"Didn't Chin have that wedding today? A cousin or something?" Danny remarks curiously, because Danny has yet to encounter a topic he considers to be none of his business. Kono hums in confirmation, trying to appear distracted by the game, willing Danny to JUST THIS ONCE take a hint.

"Leia, right?" Steve asks absent mindedly.

"Yep."

Danny turns to look at her expectantly.

"I don't get it. Shouldn't you be there? Aren't you and Chin both, like, related to the same people?"

Yeah, no shit, Sherlock.

"Didn't feel like it." Kono shrugs, refusing to elaborate. Elaborating makes it very easy for people to tell when you're lying. Or, in her case, prudently avoiding any acknowledgement of the actual circumstances of her absence from this particular family event.

Danny, miracle of miracles, drops it.

**···················**

During half time Danny gets up to grab more beer from the kitchen, and Steve smiles and tugs on her down on his lap, leaning in for a kiss. She kisses him back a little too enthusiastically, pressing herself closer, fingers running through his short hair, and of course this is the very moment Danny chooses to walk back into the room.

"Hey, hey, hey! Keep it PG in here or get a room, people. There are public decency laws in this fine country."

Steve and Kono break apart and turn to glare at him in perfect synchronization, Danny appearing unconcerned as he once more makes himself comfortable on Steve's couch. Kono feels Steve sigh in exasperation, apparently reaching the end of his patience.

"We shouldn't have to get a room, Danny." He points out drily, Kono still on his lap. "This is my house, you know?"

"Why, thank you for reminding me, Steven, it must have escaped my notice. And let me take this moment to thank you for your kind hospitality. Though I have to say, you're really going above and beyond here." Here he pauses expectantly and Steve, after a pause, does not disappoint.

"I am?" He asks, doubtful.

"Sure. I mean, who needs cable when I can watch you two get it on?" Danny smirks. Kono rolls her eyes at him, finally climbing back on the arm rest with what she hopes is some measure of dignity. She chances a glance at Steve, who's looking genuinely pissed off. Steve loves Danny insanely, she knows, but it can't be healthy for them to be spending so much time together.

She has a flash of inspiration, grabs her keys from the coffee table and throws them over to Danny, who catches them easily and raises an eyebrow.

"Keys." She explains needlessly. "To my place. You can stay there for tonight."

"And I'm doing this because…?"

"You're doing this because I want to have loud sex with my boyfriend, possibly in various rooms of the house, and you're sort of killing the mood here, brah." She says frankly. Danny seems to be considering this, glancing between her and the key chain, with no detectable enthusiasm. Steve just glowers at him, for all the good that's doing.

"Goodbye, Danny." Kono prompts impatiently, and Danny huffs as he gets off the couch.

"Fine, okay, whatever." He mumbles, sulking on his way to the door. "Have fun desecrating the house."

"We will." She assures him in a pleasant voice, sliding down to straddle Steve's lap again.

"And stay off my couch!" He shouts back, out of view.

"I make no promises." She laughs absent mindedly, then the front door slams shut and Steve is kissing her again.

**···················**

"Howzit, my favorite haole!" Kamekona greets Steve cheerfully, Kono momentarily blinded by his impossibly ugly orange shirt. Like, impossibly. This shirt would make some of the things in Chin's closet cry in shame for failing to achieve this degree of ugly.

Steve rolls his eyes at Kamekona, doesn't bother to remind him that no, actually, he's second generation Hawaiian, _kama'aina_, thank you very much, and would he like to check his ID or something in order for that to sink in?

"Kono!" Kamekona exclaims when he finally sees her there. "What's a pretty girl like you doing hanging around this one?" He asks bluntly, nodding towards Steve.

Steve looks the opposite of amused, Kono notes. Also, he's wearing jeans. Steve in jeans is quite a sight, really; a girl nearby is licking her ice cream and watching him, mesmerized, plainly wondering who this guy is, and Kono's more smug than anything, because—this is _her_ guy. So, you know, random girl can stare all she wants, but Kono will be doing all the touching. And the licking.

Well, _that_ got dirty fast.

"Just buying some shave ice, brah." Kono replies, finally snapping out of it. She smiles a little too widely, mostly still thinking about Steve's jeans and how fast she can get him out of them, but Kamekona must think she's flirting or something because he ends up waving their money away.

"You're a cheap date." Steve comments once they're sitting at one of the tables. Kono sticks out her tongue, purple from the shave ice, and Steve looks at her for a second before giving in and breaking into a dimpled smile. That's right, Kono thinks with a cocky smirk. No one can resist this face.

"Well, I had to get creative. My boyfriend always seems to leave his wallet at home." She counters, laughing.

"Sounds like a loser. You should dump him." Steve advises in a perfectly serious tone of voice.

"Nah." Kono says dismissively. "He's got other things going for him." And yes, it occurs to her they're talking about Steve in the third person here.

"Like what?"

Kono stops, pretends to think about it, tapping the plastic spoon against her pursed lips.

"Well, he looks great in jeans, for one."

"So shallow." He shakes his head, all fake disapproval.

"You love me anyway."

Steve arches an eyebrow but doesn't refute this. Kono can't pretend to be surprised.

**···················**

The end.


End file.
